Dark Soul
by Shi-koi
Summary: Crossover - Naruto & Stargate - No Pairings - Sequel to 'Sand Walker' - Set after the fight at the Valley of the End, and before the beginning of Naruto Shippuuden. This is one vision of Gaara's journey to be human. Now completely AU.
1. Chapter 1

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Title: _**Dark Soul**_

Series: Story #2. Sequel to 'Sand Walker'

Fandom: Naruto / SG-1

Author: Shi-koi

Warnings: Gaara-centric, violence, blood. Normal Naruto-verse stuff. Alternate timeline – Gaara isn't the Kazekage yet. Note the '_yet'. _The writing style changes from present to past tense in places, usually when Gaara has to interact directly to another person during a scene, so be prepared for that. Eventually it will have chunks from Naruto's perspective as well, but not for a long time.

Genre: Crossover, action/adventure, mild angst.

Pairings: None

**Summary: (Crossover) (Naruto – SG-1) Sequel to 'Sand Walker'. Set after the fight at the Valley of the End, and before the beginning of Naruto Shippuuden. This is one vision of Gaara's journey to be human.**

Feedback: Oh would you, please?

Notes: God, when I saw six-year-old Chibi-Gaara I just wanted to wrap him up in a great big tight hug and never let him go.

Writing Playlist: _'Crucify My Love', 'Kurenai', 'Dahlia'__Forever Love', 'Tears', 'Longing Togireta Melody' _and _'Longing Setsubou No Yoru' _by X-Japan, '_Redefine'_ by Soil, '_Anywhere' _by Avantasia, _'Le Ciel' _and _'Beast of Blood' _by Malice Mizer and '_Nine Spiral', 'Kimi no Tameni Dekiru Koto (7th Night)' _and _'Hoshi no Suna (7th Night)' _by Gackt. From the NARUTO Best Hit Collection – '_Wind'_ by Akeboshi, '_ALIVE' _by Raiko, '_Ima Made Nandomo' _by The Massmissile, '_Kanashimi wo Yasashisa ni' _by little by little and '_Haruka Kanata' _by Asian Kung-Fu Generation. '_Seishun Kyousoukyoku'_ by Sambomaster. By Captain Straydum there are '_Northern Flower', 'Mountain a Go Go Two' _and '_Yarukiresu (Live at SHIBUYA-AX)'. _There's also '_Never Forget' _by Morning Musume. Lastly, '_Tobira no Mukou He' _by YeLLOW Generation, from the Fullmetal Alchemist soundtrack.

I don't think I'd ever have been able to write any of this series without this music to listen to. Three kids tend to have a knack of disturbing the mood. These songs made sure the mood and _feel_ of the series was never lost to me.

Translations for certain terms are at the end of the story.

Other: I've seen Water translated as Wave, so the term 'Water Country' can also be read as 'Wave Country'. I'm staying with water, as the others (fire, wind, stone, lightning and sound) suit water best in my mind. Of course, if anyone has a better translation of the Naruto manga I'd appreciate it.

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**Dark Soul**

By Shi-koi

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_Sunagakure (The Hidden Village of Sand)_

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It's barely ten in the morning and Gaara's covered in blood. 

None of it is his.

Gaara's as happy as he can be right now, which means he's not currently murderous. Behind him his older brother Kankurou is dragging their middle sibling, Gaara's elder sister Temari. Both of them are cut and scraped and bleeding. The blood on them is theirs and their victims.

Unlike Gaara.

The guards at the gate of their village flinch when he walks past, but Gaara ignores them. He's used to fear. And hatred.

Kankurou takes his sister to the hospital while Gaara stares silently at their backs. He might have cared for them. He might not. Kankurou isn't quite sure. Gaara hasn't killed them yet, so Kankurou is leaning towards indifferent.

Which isn't a bad thing.

When they're out of sight Gaara starts walking. He knows Temari will have to stay in a few nights extra, she was wounded almost to the point of death, and Kankurou would be by her side until she recovered. Gaara doesn't know how to show he cares with words, so he goes to take care of the mission reports for them both.

Gaara knows they still probably wouldn't understand.

The Kazekage sees him instantly, despite the backlog of work he has to oversee, But then, no-one in their right mind would dare tell Gaara of the Desert to wait. Elite shinobi are no exception.

Gaara's been in the hall many times. His father was the previous Kazekage, and before his murder Gaara had been a useful tool to him – never mind the fact that he would constantly send out agents to kill his own son, and had been doing so since Gaara was only six.

This Kazekage is different. He's smart enough not to rile Gaara up.

So, Gaara gives a verbal report, and quietly comments on being displeased should his siblings be disturbed. The Kazekage blanches along with his ANBU guards, and a messenger is dispatched as soon as Gaara is out of sight with instructions that Gaara's siblings be told they don't need to report until they are both healed and well.

Gaara wonders for a moment if Kankurou or Temari will understand _this_ gesture. Then decides it doesn't really matter.

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Gaara doesn't often take missions. He doesn't need the money. He'll accept only the 'S' class mission offered to him simply because nothing else challenges him enough for him to enjoy himself. 

'S' class missions are rarer than gold dust. There are few people or situations which would need that rating. Three out of every ten shinobi on an 'S' class mission will die.

Gaara's completed over seventy 'S' class missions in the past three years. He's never failed. He's never been injured.

Gaara's only sixteen.

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Gaara has a demon inside him. 

His father wanted an unstoppable weapon. He created Gaara.

All Gaara has ever known is fear. Fear of him. Fear of his abilities. Fear of his demon.

Gaara called the demon 'Mother'.

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When Gaara goes to the Kazekage and requests time off he gets an unrestricted pass to anywhere he wants to go. The Kazekage knows Gaara would have gone anyway. 

Gaara fills his bag up with a few scrolls, full of useful summons like food and blankets and a tent. He probably won't use them, but he likes having them there. His gourd is strapped on his back as usual, his clothes clean of blood – even though the bitter scent still lingers, and his hitae-ate – his forehead protector engraved with the symbol proclaiming him to be a Sand shinobi is tied around the widest strap of the leather holding the gourd, just beside his waist.

If Gaara's hair wasn't quite as blood a red, or his skin as milk pale he could have passed as a desert-dweller, Until you saw his emotionless, empty, aqua-green eyes, rimmed a thick black, as though lined with Kohl. Even though that's natural.

He dressed like one, acted like one and knew the laws of the desert as well as any of them on any world.

Gaara hasn't slept. Ever. The demon Shukaku makes him stay awake, or fear losing himself completely.

On one of his last trips, Gaara followed a caravan across a desert, he doesn't know which one by name, only by how it feels, by how it calls itself. The people were swarthy, dark, large.

Gaara doesn't act like them. Gaara doesn't look like them.

But Gaara likes watching them.

Gaara listens, and he hears the travelers tell stories around their campfires, stories about a strange boy-child and he knows he should feel affronted. It's not his fault he's so small. But he also tastes the fear in their words as they speak of the wraith who sometimes appears out of the sands themselves, there one moment – gone the next.

They fear him.

Some tell of him as though he's a God, some speak of him as a demon.

Gaara wonders idly how many of them guess correctly.

A sandstorm is building as Gaara leaves Sunagakure, but it doesn't touch him. There's a bubble of air around him which the sand won't enter.

Gaara just keeps walking.

He can feel the change around him, the song of the sands shifting note to a deeper, thicker sound, and Gaara knows, he's not on _his_ world any longer.

The caravan is long gone, but Gaara knows the way now by himself, and he walks through the day, and through the night without pause. He reaches the large sprawling city by mid-morning and he stops on the rise of a sand dune.

The language is different, new, and Gaara takes a moment to allow his mind to adjust to the language.

People have started to notice him.

A few individuals shriek. Stories of the strange boy-child have reached the city for months, but none believed them.

Gaara doesn't care.

The air is dry and hot. Sunlight glints off many wares spread out on massive sheet-type rugs on the ground, drawing the eyes. Delicious scents float on the heavy air, tantalising, teasing.

Gaara decides he likes them, although nothing shows on his face.

When Gaara walks into the bustling town, people part before him, none daring to touch him or invade his personal space. They flinch when he meets their gazes.

Gaara knows why. There's an aura of death that surrounds him.

Sharp green eyes take in the sights, ignoring the people. Everything is calm until someone comes running around a corner, obviously not seeing him. People close enough to guess at the collision wince, or gasp, or freeze.

The man trips and falls towards Gaara.

Gaara doesn't react. Not even when the sand lifts itself from the earth and forms a shield.

Someone screams.

Gaara ignores the sound. He's seen something that interests him. There's pandemonium behind him, and the stall-keeper in front of him is too terrified to move.

There's a frog, or toad, Gaara's not too sure which, about twice the size of his fists. It's black and orange and red and blue and coated with a clear enamel. It's got claws, which is unusual, but the sight of the strange scroll between them is not. Gaara likes scrolls. To someone unable to sleep, boredom is a vindictive enemy.

The frog-toad thing reminds him of Naruto, and Gaara is in two minds about the object. Uzumaki Naruto isn't a friend. But he also isn't an enemy.

Gaara decides to buy it anyway. Maybe he'll use it, maybe not, but at least the option will be there.

The man behind the stall is shaking, although he calms down a bit when Gaara asks in his flat tone of voice how much the object costs. The man stutters, but answers. He flinches a bit when a small handful of sand swirls up into the air, even though it doesn't go near him. Gaara opens his hand and a mismatched selection of precious and semi-precious gems tumble out of the sand into his waiting palm.

Gaara chooses one, a small one, and the man's eyes light up. He accepts Gaara's offer and throws in a few other smaller objects that caught Gaara's eye.

When Gaara turns around the streets are mostly empty down the center. The stalls are still there, but the buyers are peering around them. They seem to relax when no harm comes to the vendor Gaara buys his goods from and the streets start to fill again. Most of the people are still staring though, some with awe. More with fear.

Gaara's bag still feels half empty, and Gaara is still curious.

He tries the food, then goes and buys a necklace for Temari with some strange engravings on it. It's gold and has inlays of lapis lazuli in it. Temari doesn't often get to act like a girl, and Gaara knows she wouldn't buy something like this for herself. But she is getting to an age where she could find something like this nice. But because she's also a shinobi he buys her a few of their specially designed fans, one or two of which are bladed as an ornamentation. They probably wouldn't be of any use in a fight, but her room is pretty bare. She could put them on her walls.

He buys Kankurou a handful of carefully crafted dolls. Most of them are part animal, either their heads or their bodies. Only two are fully human. Gaara can appreciate the craftsmanship in them and he knows Kankurou would like them simply because dolls like this are rare. Kankurou is a Puppet Master, just as Temari is a Wind Master, so he's certain that these curiosities will please them.

He pushes aside the thought that it would be worth it just to see the shock on their faces when he gives them their gifts.

By the time Gaara has done two complete circuits of the enormous market he has gathered quite a large following. They stay far enough back not to bother him, but they watch his every move avidly.

When Gaara has everything he wants, dusk has long since fallen. He gazes up at the night sky and decides to go home. He wants to put his treasures away. He knows he has a long time ahead of him free, but he honestly doesn't want the day to end. Gaara rarely has any fun, and three years ago he would never have dreamt of simply going on an outing like he has done today.

But then, three years ago he was trying to eliminate every living creature off the face of the planet...one by one.

He wonders if Naruto ever understood just how much he changed Gaara from the inside.

Someone makes the mistake of getting too close to Gaara and the sand rises again in warning. Some of the crowd runs away, others take pictures, others gasp or 'Ooooh' or 'Aaaahhh' at the unintentional display.

The stars twinkle above him and the lanterns glow gently around him. Gaara realises that he's happy.

Gaara then realises he's happy without having killed or shed any blood.

This scares him.

Gaara turns away and starts to walk out of the center of the market. Still surrounded by his audience, Gaara's sand rises into the air around him in a twisting, terrifyingly tall whirlwind of gritty sand and dust, then falls to the barren earth.

Gaara's gone.

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Gaara hides his gifts in his underground treasure room – it's over a month until Kankurou's birthday and a little over six until Temari's. 

No-one dares to ask where Gaara went to, nor do they comment when he eats, washes himself and his clothes and then leaves.

It's a two week walk for most people to get to Konohagakure, the Hidden Village of the Leaf, a good shinobi can get there after a week of constant, relentless travel. At full speed it would still take a shinobi three days. Gaara gets there in four days. He only walks.

His pass provided by the Kazekage gets him in with no delays or problems, although he is asked to meet with the Hokage the next day, if he decides to stay.

Not much has changed in the two years since he was last in Konoha. Everything is just as the name implies. The Leaf. Houses are mismatched and built in odd shapes, like trees growing closely together.

Massive natural trees, older than Konoha itself are all over the place, some with buildings built into them. Electrical wires streak through the spaces between the many structures, and at odd points there are balconies, signs and even on some, seemingly inaccessible roofs, tables.

It's easy to tell this is a shinobi village. Not many places have parks or picnic spots in places where you have to be capable of walking up walls, or balancing perfectly across long streams of wires in order to access them.

Gaara finds the place refreshing, if not a bit hectic.

There's almost no sign that Konoha is recovering from a major invasion, one that occurred less than four years ago. One in which Gaara himself attacked from the opposing side.

Sunagakure and Konohagakure are allies now, formed out of a combined need. The Sand were tricked into their alliance with Konoha's enemy, and Konoha didn't have the resources at the time to attack the Sand.

But it's an alliance that seems to have served both parties well.

Gaara walks through the streets, ignoring the mutters of the few people who knew who he was. They didn't matter. More people have no idea of who he is see the Sand hitae-ate and look on in curiosity, but that he doesn't mind. When evening starts to fall Gaara finds a place to rest. The hotel is used to catering to visiting shinobi and is on the outskirts of one of the quieter neighborhoods. They offer privacy and a whole host of relaxing amenities, including a private bath with each room.

Konoha lights up in the early night. There are lamps, lanterns in pretty shapes and candles glowing softly in the open windows of the restaurants and small scattered yattai style bars/eating areas. Gaara understands why so many people like Konoha, it feels warm, cozy, welcoming.

Gaara really doesn't know _why _he came here.

There isn't much for Gaara to do here. He doesn't like games, or dancing, or drinking, and much of Konoha's evening life is socially-orientated.

Gaara wonders, unsure of what motivated him to return here, until he spots a familiar blonde head.

The younger members of the crowd mostly ignore the blonde, although quite a few of the older people, those around sixteen years ago mutter obscenities at him and glare viciously. Gaara has good hearing, and it feels strange not to have those insults hurled at himself.

A few of the braver folks throw things, or try to trip the small blonde up, but he ignores them and simply smiles widely, warmly, as though he believes that none of the hatred is aimed at him.

When he gets closer Gaara can make out the tanned skin, a deceptively slender frame under an atrociously loud orange outfit and then, when the blonde gets closer still, the hauntingly blue eyes that Gaara still can't forget.

Gaara would never admit it, but Uzumaki Naruto is stronger than him.

Naruto doesn't take advantage of his strength.

Gaara wants to understand why.

He can still remember Naruto's aura, his normally blue chakra a deep terrifying crimson, burning around him in a living flame, his previously blue eyes slitted and a dark ruby red. The whiskers on his cheeks were blackish gouges scarring his face and his entire countenance seemed more animalistic than human, just as it always was when Naruto called forth the chakra of the Kyuubi sealed inside of him. The nine-tailed fox demon was one of the most powerful beings in creation and it is impossible to kill him. Konoha's fourth Hokage, their precious Yondaime was killed just to seal it inside Naruto.

Gaara can't help but feel...glad...knowing that he's not alone, that he's not the only monster in the world.

Naruto stops a few feet away from Gaara and tilts his head to one side in curiosity. His face is open and shows every emotion. There's excitement, confusion, joy, and a fierce, deep hunger in his eyes.

Gaara recognises it. The desire to fight against a worthy opponent.

Gaara wonders why though, why Naruto is so quiet. He knows the blonde is the self-proclaimed loudest ninja of the Leaf, a claim that everyone he knew agreed with, hell, even by reputation Uzumaki Naruto was known as the number one most annoying, loud and unpredictable ninja of the Leaf.

He was also unspoken of as one of the most dangerous. Not because he could fight better, or had more training, but because he was the demon-child of Konohagakure.

The demon-child who could destroy the world in a bath of fire and lava.

They didn't understand. Gaara did, and he barely knew Naruto. He'd made a point of finding out everything he could about Naruto, trying to find out why Naruto could live the way he did, how he could live without mindless slaughter, how he could befriend people and care for them...if Gaara himself could do the same.

Naruto cared too much for everyone. Even those that hated him, reviled him, abused him unmercifully. Where Gaara killed those who dared to hurt him, Naruto simply accepted it as his burden.

It was beyond Gaara's ken.

But Gaara wanted to understand.

So, when Naruto started walking, and threw a look over one shoulder as though to ask why Gaara wasn't following, Gaara followed. Naruto led them both a long way into the surrounding woods before stopping in a large meadow. He took off his bright orange jacket and took a fighting stance.

Gaara smiled. This he understood.

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Gaara crossed his arms as his took in his opponent. It had been a long, long time – too long in fact, since he'd felt this sense of anticipation. Of all the enemies and allies he'd ever fought, only four people had drawn blood, and only one person in existence had managed to ever defeat him. Not even Orochimaru's subordinate had managed that, nor the Uchiha prodigy. 

But the outcast demon-boy who loved with all his being, who fought with every last fragment of himself, Uzumaki Naruto, had managed to completely wipe him out, even though Gaara had freely allowed Shukaku complete control of his true form for their battle.

Now Naruto stood across from him in his garish bright orange trousers rolled up at the hem - something Gaara knew only too well since they were both the same height, although he'd learnt to slice off the excess fabric with a sharp kunai before binding his lower half of his legs with bandages – a black short-sleeved t-shirt and his hitae-ate tied to his head with black fabric.

If it weren't for the bandage lined weapons pouches and forehead protector he could have passed for a normal civilian.

Naruto grinned at him and dashed forward, his hands flashing in seals too fast for any ordinary person to see and suddenly there were nearly fifty extra Naruto shadow clones on the field, charging from every direction.

Gaara felt like smiling. This at least was predictable.

The sand whipped to and fro, dispatching the clones with ease. Gaara knew that this was Naruto's way of testing Gaara's growth over the past few years, but Gaara didn't mind, his blood was singing in his veins and he could feel Shukaku's excitement.

A flicker of red caught Gaara's eye and he turned just in time to prevent a chakra-lined fist from landing, swiveling on one heel to avoid the sudden kick that was behind Naruto's feint.

The sand swept up, but Naruto was gone again, lost in the sea of look-a-likes.

Gaara kept his eyes on those clones closest to him, each one wearing the same cheeky smirk-slash-smile-slash-grin on their whisker-marked faces. Ten rushed in suddenly, each pulling out a weapon. Tiny shuriken, larger sharp kunai and even a few glitteringly pointed senbon flew towards Gaara's position.

Gaara's sand came up again to block the projectiles. Gaara turned away to scan the field when a handful of the shuriken disappeared with a puff of smoke and another clone took it's place, throwing another weapon. Two clones came in low from the other side and Gaara caught sight of Naruto, a massive _'You're done for now!'_ look on him and a _huge_ scroll in his hands.

Gaara's eyes widened. He brought the sand up in an impenetrable sphere around himself just as Naruto slashed open his palm and swept his bloodied hand over the center of the scroll. He couldn't see what happened next, but the heat that suddenly surrounded him made him choke on the air inside the sand...which was slowly turning a murky opaque colour, as though it was melting!

Gaara used his transportation technique to get out of the sphere, his eyes opening wide in disbelief as he watched from the safety of one of the trees lining the meadow as a dark black fire slowly consumes his sand sphere transforming it into a solid bubble of lightly opalescent glass.

Naruto sat off to one side, looking exhausted which was exactly how Gaara felt after losing so much chakra-infused sand, but with a smile on his face as he felt Gaara's chakra move from inside the sphere to safely.

Naruto gave him a short wave before he disappeared in a swirl of wind and leaves, only to appear next to Gaara.

His smile said it all.

Gaara didn't know what to think. That move could have killed him if he'd stayed inside his sand, and now that he didn't have his shield he was vulnerable to any physical attack Naruto could throw at him.

When Naruto didn't attack him, Gaara relaxed.

When Naruto spoke, Gaara didn't know if he wanted to run, or smack the blonde.

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Naruto's apartment is small and more of a bedsit than anything else. Every available space is taken up with little houseplants and a few sparse items which speak volumes of Naruto's personality. There's a huge poster of the Leaf insignia over Naruto's bed, and a calender opposite his table, the only decorations covering the bare walls. 

The only furniture in the place beside the kitchenette is a bed, a bedside table, a small dresser, a small wardrobe and a table big enough for two people with two wooden chairs – and many erratically placed whimsical little shelves dotting the bare walls.

Gaara would have wondered about where Naruto entertained guests if he'd been anyone else – or if his eyes hadn't caught the numerous scrubbed ink stains on the open area of the floor. Naruto obviously studied and worked harder than most people thought. His own sources stated that Naruto trained extensively in the outside fields, but lacked any note-worthy book or scroll instruction.

Gaara tries not to think about what else isn't known about Naruto. How many more secrets he holds.

A small doll rests on the windowsill beside Naruto's bed, a doll that looks very familiar. Gaara frowns when he stares at it, wondering why the man who taught Uchiha Sasuke to counter Gaara's moves would be represented in a cute, obviously hand-made plushie doll. If the man had been Naruto's Team instructor, Naruto would have been training with him and the Uchiha prodigy.

When Gaara finds the pictures beside Naruto's bed he understands.

Naruto was betrayed twice. Where the renowned Uchiha prodigy had personal tutoring by their supposed instructor, Naruto found his own way to become strong. Naruto defeated the infamous Sabaku no Gaara, where not even the Uchiha could do more than annoy and wound insignificantly.

Naruto is dangerous, and obviously determined as well as strong. Gaara is pleased.

When Gaara has taken in all of the small apartment, he joins Naruto in the kitchen area and watches as Naruto makes a tray of green tea. He finds it funny when Naruto scowls angrily at the water when it burns him, then at the powdered tea when he drops a bit too much and it spills, then as he accidentally knocks the cups and the tray almost overturns.

It's hard to reconcile the terrifyingly powerful shinobi with the clumsy boy in the kitchen trying to make tea. Gaara can tell Naruto doesn't get many guests.

When the tea is done, Naruto carries it to the open space on the floor and places it down carefully, motioning for Gaara to stay where he was. When Naruto reaches under his bed and pulls out two comfy-looking floor cushions and places them at opposite sides of the tray, Gaara stares. Both of them are made from mismatched pieces of fabric, and should have looked terrible with all the bright oranges, yellows and reds, but somehow they looked...inviting. In the center of each cushion, in a slightly darker coloured red, lined with multi-coloured blue thread, was a single spiral, obviously sewn in carefully, the same spiral that Naruto added to all of his clothes.

Gaara doesn't know if it would be rude to ask, but he wonders then if Naruto made his own clothes too. He certainly hasn't ever seen anywhere sell clothes quite like the ones Naruto wears. The t-shirts and regular ninja sandals are normal enough though, and Gaara decides not to ask. He doesn't like it when people try to pry into his life, so he won't do it to someone he wants as a friend.

Naruto pours out the tea and they sit in silence as they both drink it, Gaara watching Naruto as he sits there, staring into the pale green liquid as though contemplating the universe.

A strange look of consternation comes over Gaara's face after an hour and a half of complete silence. As nice as it is to not feel pressured into having to speak, this quiet didn't suit the usually loud-mouthed ninja.

Gaara spoke first. "Uzumaki Naruto." He watched as Naruto flinched.

When Naruto looked up his blue eyes were wide and guileless and as welcoming as the summer sky.

Three years ago Gaara would have been fooled.

Three years ago Gaara wouldn't have cared.

This wasn't three years ago.

"That look doesn't suit you." Gaara said quietly.

Naruto's face seemed to fall, then he became pensive. "Most people wouldn't have seen it."

Gaara doesn't need to ask. He knows what Naruto means. He can't help but feel vindicated.

"You've changed, Gaara." Naruto says after a few more minutes of quiet.

Gaara inclined his head. "I have precious people now." Gaara states, as though that explains everything. To Naruto, it does.

Naruto smiles. This time it's real and Gaara feels dwarfed by it's brilliance. He wants to be able to smile like that.

"Precious people?" Naruto asks, then answers himself. "Your brother and sister. Right?"

Gaara nods.

"Good."

Gaara can feel a question on the tip of his tongue. W_here are your precious people, Naruto? _But he can't bring himself to ask. Something made Naruto change, but somehow he gets the feeling that Naruto has managed to hide the changes from everyone.

He wonders if he should feel this...pleased, that Naruto is letting him see behind his smiles.

"So. Why did you come here?" Naruto asks, after taking another sip of his now cool tea.

Gaara shrugs. "I like to travel." He pauses, uncertain about something. Naruto just waits patiently and Gaara doesn't know if he feels pleased by his patience, or un-nerved by his unusual behaviour.

Naruto looks wistful. "I like to travel too."

"Why can't you?" Gaara asks. Naruto is a good ninja, and loyal to Konoha. All shinobi get periods of time off, and Naruto, as a Chuunin, should have had a good amount of free time in-between missions.

Naruto just shrugs his shoulders then lets them drop, refusing to meet Gaara's eyes.

"Naruto." Gaara's tone is dark. He knows he's missing something.

Naruto lifts his head, but refuses to meet Gaara's sharply assessing eyes. "I'm not allowed out of the village without an escort of Chuunin or higher including, but not excepting all team missions." Naruto states flatly. "It's for my own safety, since the Akatsuki are still after me."

Gaara snorts. "Bullshit."

Naruto's head flashes back so fast Gaara thinks Naruto may have concussed himself. "What?!" He chokes out in a strangled voice.

Gaara smiles. Naruto looks like he ate a particularly sour lemon.

"The Akatsuki can get you any time, any place, and not even a team of elite ANBU would be able to stop them." Gaara says, his voice brooking no arguments. He doesn't like it when Naruto seems to curl into himself, as though this isn't new to him.

"What's the real reason?" Gaara asks.

"The Council are getting pissy." Naruto finally replies, seemingly undisturbed at sharing private news with a shinobi not from his village.

"Why?"

Naruto studies Gaara for a while, staring at him as though looking for something. He sighs eventually, then strips off the top half of his clothes.

There's a red glow coming from Naruto's navel, and Gaara realises this is the seal the Kyuubi is behind. The skin around Naruto's stomach seems paler against the warm light constantly being emitted. The seal itself is a good five inches across, it spreads out two and a half inches from his navel in a circle and is made from a spiral covered with an intricate interwoven pattern. It looks extremely complex and was obviously designed by a master.

"The Kyuubi?"

Naruto nods. "Yeah. The Council are insisting that the fox is going to break out at any time. I think they want me close so they can assassinate me. Tsunade-baa-chan is the only thing stopping them."

"The Hokage?"

"Yeah. She's sort of adopted me as a little brother, but even she can't rescind the rules the Council laid down." Naruto looks angry for a moment, then just...sad. "I can't keep going like this. Pretty soon I'm not going to be able to make enough money to afford to keep myself. I'm lucky that old man Sandaime paid for the apartment for me...but I still have to eat."

When Naruto laughs this time it's brittle and fed up. "I think they're planning on killing me slowly."

"What about your friends?" Gaara knows Naruto has a tendency of making friends easily, and usually surprisingly loyal ones. Gaara includes himself in them.

"I'm not going to beg for help." Naruto's face reddens, out of embarrassment, not anger.

"Aa." Gaara knows when Naruto says it. He would just quietly expire rather than burden his friends.

"You're stupid." Gaara states.

"What?" Naruto pales, then goes almost purple.

Gaara pours himself some tea, heating it with his chakra. "You're stupid," he says again, taking a sip of the now hot tea.

"I – you – wha..." Naruto deflates and runs a hand tiredly through his blonde spikes. "I give up. There's no making any heads or tails with you, is there?"

Gaara sits back on the cushion a bit further. He props his arm up on one raised knee and stares at Naruto with narrowed eyes. "I used to be jealous of you," he says finally.

Naruto blinks at him, his forehead scrunching up at the sudden change in topic. "Eh?"

"I thought I was unbeatable. You defeated me. At first I was angry, but you said that you fought for your precious people." Gaara paused, weighing his words. "I lived only for myself. Loved only myself. I thought that was the only way to stay strong." Gaara frowned, gazing into his cup. "You shattered everything I thought I knew."

"I'm...sorry?" Naruto looked confused.

Gaara shook his head. "That's not what I mean. You've had a past as bad as I, and yet you went out and tried to make it better. You made friends, comrades and allies. I made enemies. I couldn't figure you out. I still can't. You're the only person I feel like I can talk too...even my siblings don't stay around me long enough to carry on a conversation...and there's always the scent of fear around them."

Gaara looked up, pinning Naruto with his cool green gaze. "You don't fear me."

"I don't?" Naruto thought about this. "I guess...after our fight, you just didn't seem so terrible."

"Yet every time we met before that battle you were so terrified you couldn't move." Gaara said slowly. "Even during our battle, you were unable to do anything but shake until I hurt your friends."

"Then..."

"You were not afraid as long as you were fighting for another. You didn't care about yourself. That's why you aren't scared now. You know you can fight me, and probably win. You have no one around that I can hurt to make you back off, and even if I did, you would only fight harder to save them."

Naruto snorted then looked away, crossing his arms. "You make it sound like I don't give a shit about myself."

Gaara sent a piercingly even look at him. "Do you?"

Naruto stood up so fast he knocked over his cold cup of tea. He retreated back to his small kitchenette and paced back and forth, muttering quiet obscenities.

Gaara just sipped his own drink again, ignoring the burn of Naruto's eyes on him.

"I don't know what the hell your problem is Gaara, but I sure as hell don't need _you_ preaching to me about caring for yourself, or have you forgotten how _you_ lived, eh?"

"At least _I_ made the effort to change. You're just giving up, aren't you?" Gaara raised his head and slanted a condescending flicker and then dismissal with his eyes towards Naruto. "Uzumaki Naruto, the most determined shinobi of the Leaf...a quitter," Gaara scoffed.

"Fuck you." Naruto ground out, the words sticking in his throat. "I should rip your fucking _entrails_ out of your body and dance on them."

Gaara snorted loudly. "Oh? Are you planning on taking my place? Planning on becoming a true monster?"

Naruto ground his jaw and clenched his hands so hard the skin of his palms split under his suddenly sharpening nails. The wounds healed seconds after they formed, leaving only the few drops of blood that escaped a testament to his anger. "I am _not_ a monster."

"Tell me, Naruto, just how accurate _are_ the Council? Is the Kyuubi influencing your actions? How much of it's rage are you experiencing? How much of it's lust, it's thirst for destruction, for blood? How long have you been trying to suppress it's instincts?"

"I have no idea what you mean." Naruto said flatly. "Not that it's any of your business. I don't owe you anything."

"No, you don't, do you?" Gaara mused.

"Dammit Gaara! What the hell do you want from me? What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you how fucked up I am? I already know it! I know I go around shouting about friendship and loving people and wanting to help everyone...but that I can't accept help for myself! I already _know_ this!"

Naruto looked away, his hands coming up to slowly stroke the Leaf hitae-ate on his forehead. Naruto untied it slowly, bringing it down and staring at the slightly knocked metal.

Naruto's voice lowered, a note of sorrow threading through it. "I know I'm quick to offer help, but never one to accept it. I never had much of a choice, Gaara. If I dared ask for help when I was younger it always made things worse. The villagers, they – they could _smell_ weakness, they _knew_ without saying anything to each other how they could hurt me. If I dared ask for help...every time...I always lived to regret it. Old habits die hard."

"That was then, Naruto. You were young. Weak. Alone. Are you still that child?" Gaara asked quietly.

"No. Not that it matters. I'll make my way on my own strength. I'll help myself and not go scrounging from other people. I _have _to be strong, Gaara! Admitting that I can't make enough money to eat, admitting that I'm less than human...I can't do that Gaara. My friends, they're the only ones who haven't looked at me with cold eyes, eyes that scream out with hatred and fear. I can't give them up. I can't!"

"You are an absolute fool, Naruto! You have what I'd give my right arm for! You have people who would worry about you if you'd let them, you have people who care for you, people who would _love_ to be a part of your life – if you would let them in!"

"I _can't!"_

"You're scared!" Gaara shouted, his voice becoming shrill. "You're terrified and you're stupid and you're going to end up dead and alone from something idiotic! You're not worthy of becoming Hokage Naruto. You don't fucking deserve it!"

"You're a fucking bastard, you know that?" Naruto snarled, his back to Gaara, his fists clenched so hard his nails started to pierce the skin.

Gaara's eyes darkened. "**YOU **made me this way, Uzumaki Naruto. Because of _you_ I had to find out who and what I was all over again. Because of _you_ I have no peace. Because of _**you!**_ I can't talk to anyone because they are terrified of me, and I never used to care about that, but you had to fucking damn well shred me apart!"

Small grains of sand began to form in the air, circling Gaara, who stood slowly, his tea placed gently on the floor.

Naruto backed up a step, a blue glow interspersed with red flickering around him.

"Why did you come here then if you hate me so much?" Naruto ground out, his every muscle tensed from Gaara's unintentional display. Even without his gourd, Gaara was dangerous.

"I thought you could understand me. I thought you could help me." Gaara said, still standing on the other side of the room.

"How?" This time, when he spoke, Naruto seemed lost. The glow around him intensified, slowly turning a soothing violet – if you ignored the restrained violence it represented. "I can't even help myself."

"Naruto. Where are your precious people?"

* * *

**::insertpagebreakhere::**

**Tbc...**

**::insertpagebreakhere::**

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

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* * *

Title: _**Dark Soul**_

Series: Story #2. Sequel to 'Sand Walker'

Fandom: Naruto / SG-1

Author: Shi-koi

Warnings: Gaara-centric, violence, blood. Normal Naruto-verse stuff. Alternate timeline – Gaara isn't the Kazekage yet. Note the '_yet'. _The writing style changes from present to past tense in places, usually when Gaara has to interact directly to another person during a scene, so be prepared for that. Eventually it will have chunks from Naruto's perspective as well, but not for a long time.

Genre: Crossover, action/adventure, mild angst.

Pairings: None

**Summary: (Crossover) (Naruto – SG-1) Sequel to 'Sand Walker'. Set after the fight at the Valley of the End, and before the beginning of Naruto Shippuuden. This is one vision of Gaara's journey to be human.**

* * *

* * *

Gaara stood before the Hokage. The deceptively young-looking blonde woman scanned him with sharp amber eyes before motioning for him to sit down opposite her desk. The Hokage, Tsunade was over fifty years old and one of the Legendary Three Sannin of Konoha, yet she didn't look a day over twenty. It was said she could heal any wound with her medical skills and her strength was so monstrous she could split a mountain in half with a single punch.

Whether the rumors were true or not remained to be seen, and Gaara wasn't dumb enough to pit himself against her.

Tsunade sat back in her chair and leveled a cautiously blank stare towards the redheaded boy opposite her. Gaara just stared at her with his cool aqua eyes, his face a blank mask. He'd been called in to see the Hokage after a team of ANBU had been dispatched to find out who or what was behind the frighteningly large chakra felt in the center of Konoha.

Gaara had gone peacefully, partially glad to get away from the broken look in Naruto's blue eyes. He couldn't understand what it was about the blonde that made him so emotional, that made him so quick to snap and lose his temper. Whatever it was, Gaara didn't want to face finding out just yet.

"Do you know why you were summoned here?"

Gaara stared, before shrugging his shoulders and looking away.

"Is there any particular reason for the presence of a Sand shinobi here in Konoha?" Tsunade asked eventually, steepling her hands on the desk before her, the tips of her fingers just brushing her chin. "Are you here to deliver a message? Maybe trade? Or are you trying to...scout?"

Gaara didn't answer.

"Look, Gaara, I don't have a problem with you being here...but I do have a responsibility to this village. I need to know why you're here. Why there was a sudden and very large amount of chakra suddenly released in the middle of the town." Tsunade sighed.

"Why is Naruto being confined?"

Tsunade eyes widened just enough for Gaara to catch. "What? Naruto? Naruto isn't being confined. Not that it's any of your business."

Gaara's eyes were dark when he stared at her. "I know."

"No. You don't." Tsunade stated succinctly.

"Do you care about him? Do you worry about him?" Gaara asked, his voice emotionless, which for some reason sent a shiver down her spine. "Is he just another piece on your board?"

"You're stepping into dangerous territory, Sabaku no Gaara." Tsunade warned, her eyes flashing amber for an instant. "It wouldn't take much to revoke your pass."

"You would have to explain the reasons to the Kagekage." Gaara pointed out. "You would place strain on the relations between the Sand and the Leaf simply for a few...questions?"

"I don't need to justify myself to _you_." There was anger simmering in Tsunade's voice.

"What are you trying to hide? Or do you truly not know...?" Gaara found himself taking pleasure in the fact that he could _hear_ the Hokage grind her teeth.

Tsunade stood and leant over her desk, her fists firmly planted on the thick wooden surface. "I don't know what your game is, nor do I truly care – but Naruto is _none_ of your concern. Your _questions_ are an insult. You are implying things which have no place here."

"If you are innocent of any misdeeds, and you honestly_don't_ know _why_... then I have to wonder, Hokage-_sama_; just how much _are_ you aware of?" Gaara said blandly. "Of which implications do you speak? Are you...concerned, because I ask about Uzumaki Naruto...or it it truly the questions themselves which offend you?"

Gaara stood, and walked to the door. "I would suggest you find out about that which is important to you. You are on the brink of losing a treasure, Hokage-sama, a treasure which Konoha would suffer dearly without. We both know that the Chakra _display_ was centered in the apartment of Uzumaki Naruto, and that it wasn't all his."

Gaara turned slightly, just enough for Tsunade to glimpse the utter severity of his expression. "I came, because I was drawn to Konoha. I did not know why until I came across Naruto, and I don't honestly know why I wanted to stay, or why I will be leaving soon. I am willing to find out why. Are you so willing when it comes to your own?"

"Get out." Tsunade hissed darkly.

Gaara left.

It was only after the redhead left that Tsunade wondered about the gourd that was missing from the teen's back.

* * *

* * *

Naruto was waiting outside when Gaara left the building. They walked in silence, the blonde shadowing Gaara's steps. They passed through the streets, filled with shoppers and vendors and people out taking advantage of the warm evening air. Gaara ignored them, taking pains to ensure no emotions showed on his face, even when bitter tongues lashed the youth beside him. He ignored the glares directed at Naruto, and the few centered on himself for daring to walk beside the outcast of the village.

No-one dared get to close, or to throw anything at Naruto, for which Gaara was grateful – he didn't really want to get blood on his hands in a village not of his own. For the most part, Naruto ignored them as well, hiding the flinches beneath wide vacuous smiles and dully open plastic blue eyes.

Gaara was suddenly reminded of Kankurou's painted dolls. Naruto looked like a doll. Lifeless but mimicking those around him. Invisible chakra strings controlling his movement and his expressions, painted on with the brush stroke of a master actor and artist.

Gaara wondered what what would happen if someone cut the strings. Or if they frayed beyond repair.

They didn't stop walking until they reached the meadow they'd fought in, a handful of hours earlier. The glass sphere was still intact, surrounded by a ring of blackened grass. Naruto looked vaguely apologetic when he saw the remains of Gaara's gourd. He alone knew how personal the sand it contained and was created from was.

Gaara placed a hand on the shimmering sphere. Even solid, as it was now, Gaara could still feel the essence of life contained within it, pulsing lightly for those sensitive enough to be able to see or feel it.

"Sorry." Naruto said, breaking the silence.

Gaara glanced at him sideways, one hand still gently stroking the smooth domed side of the glass. "Why?"

Naruto shrugged. "I really wanted to try out that new jutsu, but I didn't think about what it would do to your sand."

Gaara snorted, turning back to the sphere. "I like it." And that was a surprise, because when he said it Gaara realised that he _did_ like it. It was something he could place in his _special_ treasure room, something unique and his. Gaara knew he wasn't going to tell Naruto that though...that was just...too much information. Personal information. What would he say anyway? 'Thank you for partially creating a gift for me?', no. That would mean revealing too much about himself underneath his carefully created outer persona.

Naruto's eyes were slightly more open than before, the dullness a bit less than earlier. "Really?" he asked, doubt lacing his voice.

"I can make more sand." Gaara said then, wondering why he was bothering to explain.

"Oh." Naruto scrunched his face up. "But it's not the same, is it? I mean...well...you know, you've been feeding that sand and taking care of it and it's kind of – alive."

Naruto paused. "I'm making it sound like a pet, aren't I?"

Gaara felt amused. "Just a little bit."

Naruto looked uncomfortable. "This new sand you can get...make...whatever, it's not going to be quite the same, it it?"

Gaara thought about it for a while, Naruto looking a little bit more uncomfortable and a smidgeon...forlorn? With each passing moment. "It won't be as powerful." Gaara stated eventually. "Maybe not as fast. But I can get it back to full strength after a few missions."

Naruto's face contorted into a weird expression, even for him. "But you could get hurt, right? Because that other sand of yours, you've been feeding it all your life."

"I guess I should have been quicker on my feet then." Gaara said, allowing a thread of amusement colour his tone. "I tend to rely on one defense a lot when I'm fighting. If anything, your display showed me I really need to start practicing some other moves."

Gaara patted the glass before walking away, stopping when he was in the center of the ravaged meadow. He could feel Naruto's eyes on him as he concentrated on pooling his chakra underneath the surface of the soil, a good depth down, searching for the necessary minerals needed to create his own sand. The Fire Country was especially good for this sort of thing. Stone Country came close, but they mined a lot and too many mineral-rich veins were destroyed regularly. When Gaara delved into the earth he could _feel_ the missing pieces. No, Fire Country was definitely the best for recovering and creating sand. It was always best when dried out in his own Wind Country, but the first process was the most vital.

It took effort, and chakra, a helluva damn _ton_ of chakra to filter through the soil, much less compress and sear it into something approaching pure sand. Then it had to be cleaned – an odd concept considering how he usually tended to it – and refined. That was only the beginning. The entire process would only take around two to three minutes for crude sand, but for the kind Gaara was after, the process could take anywhere up to three or four hours.

Sweat beaded and ran down Gaara's skin, across tensed and straining muscles and shivering limbs.

Naruto had no idea how much Gaara trusted him to watch his back. He was completely defenseless like this, at the mercy of any aspiring enemy shinobi and in an outside village to boot.

Maybe Naruto would never know. But to Gaara, this was a way of saying he was a friend.

You don't kill friends.

The stars were out, twinkling in the clear night sky by the time Gaara finished and had his gourd reformed on his back. It was a pale gold, quite different from the rich bronzed red-gold it had been before.

Gaara felt relieved at the burden on his back. It was a familiar and welcome feeling, if different from before.

"Is that...**It**? The gourd?" Naruto asked.

"Yes."

Naruto frowned at him – no, at the gourd. "It doesn't look right, or feel right. It seems...lighter. Not as menacing."

Gaara stared at him. "It's weak. There's no presence in it yet. Once mother feeds for a while her strength will fill it."

Naruto shuddered. "That's just creepy. Calling Shukaku 'Mother'."

Gaara blinked, although that seemed to happen in slow motion he was so tired. "I do not call Shukaku 'Mother'. My mother is in both of us. She was the first offering of blood." Gaara clenched his fists and looked away, and Naruto could see he hadn't meant to tell even that much.

"Sorry. I didn't know."

"I shouldn't have said anything."

Naruto stepped forwards, his hand hovering, but not quite daring to touch the sand gourd. "It's hungry, isn't it?"

Gaara shrugged. "A bit. I'll find a few animals on the way back to Sunagakure that'll keep it satisfied."

Naruto nodded absently, still staring fixedly at the pale sand. He seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and then smiled at Gaara, pulling out a kunai and slicing open his palm with one deft stroke until the bone showed. Before Gaara could react Naruto pressed his hand against the sand, hissing when he felt the sand _pull_ at the skin, absorbing the blood as fast as it poured out.

Gaara froze, a look of confusion and...pleasure...encompassing his usually stoic face. Naruto was a creature of power, of pure energy, and the sheer _amount_ of that energy, of that massive power flooding into his sand, and him, was unbelievable.

The intense potency of that charge of chakra that Naruto fed to him, and to his sand and ultimately Shukaku defied comprehension. For a few minutes Gaara was unable to think, to speak, to do anything other than ride the heady waves of power that Naruto gave through his shed blood.

There was a soft cry of pain, but Gaara couldn't move. Eventually coherency returned, along with his wits and thought processes. But the rush stayed with him. Everything felt lighter, and Gaara felt that he was connected not only to the earth beneath him, which was usual for him, but to the very air itself, to every blade of grass, to every tree, every flower and each and every living particle in a sixty mile radius. A small part of his brain that wasn't fried wondered if this was how Naruto felt all the time. If it was, there was no wonder he hated hurting people.

The implications of that thought faded under the onslaught and aftermath of the rush of Naruto's gift.

The feeling slowly faded, leaving him in his own skin with his usual level of perception, including the many miles of dirt beneath his sandaled feet.

Naruto was on his knees beside him, his forehead pressed against the soil. He was cradling his arm, so white it seemed like bleached bone. There was a terrible wound spitting open his palm, but no blood came out. His muscles were exposed, bones and tendons gleaming horribly in the clear moonlight.

"Naruto..." Gaara whispered softly, falling to his knees beside Naruto. "What did you do, Naruto?"

Naruto gave a shaky laugh, his body trembling with the force of it. "S-sorry. Just, j-just wan-wanted to help."

Gaara had to strain to hear Naruto's faint voice. He scrubbed at his forehead. "Shouldn't that have healed by now?" he asked.

Naruto didn't answer him, but Gaara knew he was right. "Shit." He tugged at the excess fabric he had wound around his waist as a decorative belt, wrapping the red-brown fabric gently around Naruto's hand, pressing the edges of the wound closed as he bound it up.

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" Gaara asked, frowning when he realised he still couldn't see any colour returning to Naruto's exposed white arm.

Naruto raised his head just enough to shake it in the negative, before accepting Gaara's assistance to stand. He swayed on his feet and looked as terrible as Gaara knew he must feel. His skin was pale, too pale beneath his tan, his eyes looked pained and he held himself like a wounded animal.

"Just...get me h-home, Gaara. Please."

Gaara nodded, and without having to even think about it, the sand stirred, fairly vibrating with the force of it's own energy, excitement seeping through into Gaara's blood as it rose and encompassed both Gaara and Naruto, turning in on itself as Gaara commanded it to transport them both safely to Naruto's apartment.

The sand held Naruto upright while Gaara moved him to the bed. Naruto was unconscious, and Gaara stared at him, wondering about what he'd said earlier. Naruto was really acting as though he held no worth beyond that which he could give to others. Naruto had always held a self-sacrificing streak when it came to his friends, and an extremely strong innate sense of self-preservation and survival when it came to his own well-being.

At least, he had three years ago.

Gaara was nothing if not thorough, and his investigation into Naruto's life was no exception. He knew everything about him from just after birth until recently. Not so much with his personal relations, but the actual cold hard facts of his life. Gaara couldn't say who his friends were, but he could speculate...unlike his statistics.

So Gaara knew about Naruto's placement in an orphanage when he was a baby, with no parents to speak of. People had wondered if Naruto even _had_ parents, and some still believed that Naruto _was_ the fox demon itself in human form.

Gaara had at least been cared for by his uncle Yashamaru. Never mind the fact that his uncle was the first person to try and kill him when he was six.

When Naruto was six he'd already been thrown out of the orphanage in secret, no-one wanting the then Hokage, the Sandaime, Sarutobi to know that they had removed the Kyuubi brat from their care. At six, Naruto had been living on the streets for nearly two years, the false reports on his care remaining a well kept secret at the orphanage.

It would have stayed a secret if Naruto hadn't almost starved and died, the beating he'd received for stealing some food from a stall was what brought him and his distinct _lack_ of care to the Sandaime's attention.

The Hokage had gifted the six year old Naruto with his own small apartment, basically fitted, the same one Naruto lived in now. It was deeded in Naruto's name, and until his death three years earlier the Sandaime had also paid for Naruto's other basic bills, water, electric and general maintenance, no-one in the village being willing to hire Naruto because of his burden.

Was it any wonder Naruto spent his entire life surviving on ramen? It was cheap, filling and hot, and he could use his small allowance to keep himself fed.

Gaara just took what he wanted. As the son of the Kazekage he was Suna royalty, and he'd learnt early on how to care for himself. His uncle at least had been good for _something._

Gaara had his own suspicions about Naruto's origins. He knew it was very likely that he would become the next Kazekage, and he'd been groomed for that position from birth to the age of six, his shinobi training facilitating the rest. He'd seen pictures of the Yondaime and he looked exactly like Naruto, older definitely, and without the distinctive whisker scars, but otherwise he looked _just like Naruto_.

The same Yondaime which sealed the fox demon inside Naruto.

The same Yondaime who was known as Konoha's Yellow Flash.

The same Yondaime which created the powerful Rasengan technique which is so impossibly hard to learn that only the Yondaime's mentor had ever managed to learn it off his own pupil.

Until Naruto came along and learned it, mastering the technique which took the Yondaime three years to master in under a week.

There were more coincidences, like the Yondaime's mentor, the great Toad Sannin of Konoha, teaching and training Naruto because of rumors that Jiraiya saw his now dead apprentice in Naruto.

Gaara wondered how Konoha would react if they knew they were treating their own royal sacrifice like a diseased cur.

He didn't find the thought funny.

Gaara knew about the secret training Naruto put himself through, but not about the scrolls. Finding out about Naruto's basic past had raised demons – figuratively speaking – from his own. Gaara found himself remembering the many sleepless nights, terrified out of his mind that he was going to fall asleep and get eaten by the demon within him. The demon he'd called mother.

Gaara understood Naruto's need to train in secret, the need to preserve his own sanity by wearing a mask over his own personality. The need was rooted in a desperate bid for safety, the overwhelming urge to protect oneself in order to _live_.

Gaara knew about the beatings that Naruto went through before becoming a shinobi. He'd had no control over his chakra, had no idea of how to call it out. The Kyuubi seal was too new, too strong for Naruto to access.

Naruto had been helpless. He hadn't had Gaara's sand defense. Hadn't had anyone to protect him, to look after his health. From the ages of six through ten Naruto had been in hospital two hundred and seven times. Each time he'd been discharged within two hours. Yet the hospital kept no medical records for him.

Gaara's informant had been extremely thorough and the only proof of Naruto's mistreatment had been in the sealed files in the Hokage's office.

No matter the severity of Naruto's injuries, the Hospital had found some way of removing Naruto from their premises. Gaara wondered how many times Naruto gained injuries for _going_ to the Hospital.

Reading the files had made Gaara sick.

He'd thought his father was bad.

Gaara had never been wounded, had never unwillingly shed any blood until he was twelve years old, until the Chuunin examination held in Konohagakure. He'd wondered if he was real so many times. Unable to feel physical pain, he hadn't known how much it could hurt, how much it could tear you up inside.

Even the night he and the sand had tattooed the kanji for 'Love' into his forehead he'd been in so much pain from Yashamaru's betrayal that he hadn't felt a thing.

Sometimes he thought Naruto had been lucky to know he was alive. To know he was real. To know he was flesh and blood and still human on the outside. At other times he was glad he had been protected by his sand.

When he'd read Naruto's files he'd felt an overwhelming kinship with him, both of them had been misused, one being battered and beaten on the outside, one being tortured and hurt on the inside.

Both of them had had years to mold a working mask over themselves. Naruto's mask though, his mask was breaking.

Gaara never thought he'd feel so protective of him. In a way, he supposed it was much like the way he felt towards his siblings, although the care he felt for them was shadowed with guilt over the way he'd treated them before Naruto had literally beaten sense into him.

Maybe it was time to return the favour.

Gaara stared down at Naruto's sleeping form. He knew that Naruto was slightly older than him by maybe a month or two, but he honestly felt like _he_ was the elder one and Naruto was the younger brother he'd never had.

Looking at Naruto's crumpled body on the small bed, it was easy to understand why. Naruto seemed so...breakable...frail, completely at odds with his usual guise.

Gaara frowned. Feeling like these were too new, too uncomfortable to think about. They were confusing.

Gaara pulled off Naruto's sandals and tugged the duvet up from under his feet, covering him up to his neck. He untied the hitae-ate and placed it gently on the bedside table, in front of the pictures. He checked the wound, and Naruto's arm, glad when he saw that his skin was approaching something approximating normal colour and the gentle crimson glow seeping out through the fabric signified that the wound was healing.

Calling the sand back to him, Gaara left.

* * *

* * *

The warm bath and the food he'd ordered at the small bar-cum-restaurant made Gaara feel slightly better. He spent the what was left of the night resting and meditating on the recent events. There was some part of him telling him that he was getting too attached and that he needed to leave before something happened, something irreversible. Another part, the part he buried deep inside argued that what was happening was good, was something he would be grateful for.

Gaara's first instinct was to kill. Not appropriate.

The second was to run. Hide. Be anywhere but here.

Maybe he needed to do something fun to distract himself.

The first early rays of dawn's light found Gaara heading back to Naruto's apartment. He walked slowly, unsure of whether or not he wanted to be there just yet. No-one answered when he knocked, and he was about to leave when a cheerful voice greeted him. There was an underlying wariness in his tone of voice, but more prevalent was the unmistakable _friendliness_ inherent in it.

The man walking down the hallway wore a Chuunin vest and was at least five to ten years his senior. There was a very low amount of power to him, but he radiated a sort of homely comfort, much like Gaara's ideal of a parent. He had a large scar over the bridge of his nose and and warm dark eyes, his dark brown hair was pulled up high in a short, stiff ponytail. He was the man in another one of Naruto's pictures. Naruto had a few of them lying around with him in them, usually in ninja garb, but a few with them both lounging casually.

"Gaara, right?" The man asked.

Gaara stared at him. The man looked uncomfortable for a moment before smiling widely –_Naruto's smile_-- and rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. His other hand held a few plastic bags.

"Ah, I'm Iruka, Umino Iruka. I didn't know you were a friend of Naruto's." The man, Iruka, said lightly, taking out a key and unlocking the door.

Gaara frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Eh?" Iruka blinked. "I come around every week to check on Naruto. Why?"

"You just walked in." Gaara stated. It wasn't quite a question.

Iruka shrugged. "Naruto's usually asleep. If I come around this early he won't hear me knock. Hence the keys," he jingled them for effect. "Are you coming in?"

Gaara watched as the chuunin pushed the door open and held it for Gaara. It only took a moment, before Gaara decided, and he walked inside, staring at the older man until he turned looked uncomfortable and left for the kitchenette area, leaving Gaara to shut and lock the door behind him.

It was a petty move, but Gaara still felt better.

Gaara watched as Iruka cleaned up around Naruto's apartment, unfolding a bag and picking up various dirty clothes. The bag was placed by the door, too bright with it's many multiple colours to be missed. The counters were wiped and the bags he'd brought with him emptied out on them.

Most of the goods were cup ramen, but there was also a few cartons of milk, some chocolate, a small bag of fruit and berries which were emptied into a bowl on Naruto's table. There was a clear plastic box with onigiri, another with cookies and a small dark bento box which was placed in the small fridge beside the milk. There were a few boxes of juice placed in the cupboard and the last few items, which turned out to be needles and thread were placed in one of the drawers.

Iruka folded the bags themselves up and tucked them in his pocket before making sure everything else was put away, then he turned to Gaara. "Do you want some tea? Naruto should be awake in a bit."

"You didn't check him." Gaara didn't realise his voice would come out quite so...disapproving.

Iruka chuckled. "No matter what happens to Naruto, he's always up and fine after a night of sleep." He looked slightly wistful at this, and Gaara suddenly remembered where he'd seen this man's name before. He was the one who'd passed Naruto. Rumor had it that Naruto's hitae-ate wasn't the usual graduate one, but that it had been Iruka's forehead protector, an item precious to Iruka, but which he'd given Naruto.

Gaara knew from the report that some of the older shinobi had given him a hard time about it. Unimo Iruka, Chuunin Instructor at the Ninja Academy.

That explained why he was still interested in Naruto. It didn't explain why Gaara saw shades of Naruto in this man...or was it vice versa? Was this man the one who'd influenced Naruto's mask, his personality? Gaara's eyes narrowed. If that was true, then there was much more to this man beneath the surface. Still waters ran deep, but sometimes the most obvious were still the most deadly.

Gaara wasn't going to make that mistake again.

"So, uh, what brings you here?" Iruka asked curiously as he made the tea. His movements were fluid and he seemed to know his way perfectly around the kitchenette. Unlike with Naruto, there were no incidents with hot water, or spilled tea powder and when Iruka carried the tea tray to the table and sat down it was done with an economy of movement which surprised Gaara.

He found himself preferring Naruto's tea-making.

"I was...in the area." Gaara said, accepting the tea Iruka poured, but staying on his feet.

Iruka smiled, his eyes closing. "Aa. Sunagakure is quite a distance away and I haven't heard of any missions nearby which required Sand assistance or presence."

Gaara could hear the unspoken warning, and for a moment unquenchable anger surged through him. How _dare_ this man insinuate Gaara was lying!

"But...I'm just a simple teacher. So I guess I could be wrong." Iruka continued, leaving Gaara wary rather than mad.

There was something familiar about this man, and Gaara didn't like it one bit. He was protecting, or at least thinking he was protecting Naruto from Gaara, and for that Gaara was...grateful? Maybe. But for some reason he felt like his territory was being trespassed upon.

Gaara scowled.

"Have you two been friends long?" Iruka continued to smile, but there was still the feeling of Gaara being gently interrogated.

"Wouldn't you know?" Gaara shot back. "You are obviously a big part of his life, you even have a key to his home. Why don't you tell me?"

Iruka nodded, drinking his tea before answering. "True. But I've learnt the hard way that Naruto is his own person, and besides," the smile widened then, "Naruto makes so many friends it's hard to keep up with them all; and he's usually so busy I don't get the time to talk to him for long."

Gaara snorted, and something dangerous entered Iruka's smile. His eyes flashed for an instant, and Gaara was reminded of an injured bird protecting it's nest, luring the predator in by pretending to have an injured wing, by pretending to be harmless.

Iruka placed his cup down in front of him and stared neutrally at Gaara, giving no outward sign of menace.

"Naruto makes friends easily," Iruka said then, "but he hasn't yet learned to guard his heart properly against betrayal." He tilted his head to one side, studying Gaara, who felt uncharacteristically uneasy. "I really wouldn't want that to happen to him again, Gaara of the Desert."

Gaara forced down the urge to snarl...or at least rip the chuunin's throat out. "I'm not the Uchiha."

Iruka sighed, then smiled wryly. "No. You're not."

Gaara decided he was confused by this man. He couldn't figure out if that was an insult or an acknowledgment.

When the dark-haired chuunin showed no signs of leaving, Gaara finished his tea and left the cup on the nearest counter-top. He detoured to Naruto's bed, hiding his relief when he saw that Naruto's colour had returned and that he was sprawled comfortably across the length and width of his bed, his breathing even and steady.

One hand reached out before Gaara realised what he was doing, gently stroking the soft blonde spikes, which felt closer to fur than human hair. Gaara could remember Yashamaru doing the same thing for him when he was four and had had a particularly bad day, although he had no idea why he was remembering that particular memory_now_.

Almost defiantly, Gaara turned back to the table, digging deeply into his bag and retrieving the toad statue he'd brought with him from his treasure room. He'd already taken the scroll out and he replaced it with another one of an old jutsu he would never use which he'd intended to trade for while in Konoha.

The original scroll had been ornate and held many pretty pictures as well as writings he'd never seen before which promised many hours of deciphering. Useless, certainly, except as a way to stave off boredom.

"Tell Naruto," Gaara began, "that I will visit him soon. And tell him..."

Iruka cocked his head to one side enquiringly when Gaara trailed off. "Tell him?"

"Keep the statue, and the scroll. Tell him..." Gaara looked away, "...that I'm – grateful, for what he did."

Gaara walked to the door, but paused when he reached it, his hand still on the handle. He took a good long look at Iruka before coming to a decision. "It's good that he has you." Gaara said quietly. When he left, he shut the door quietly, hiding a smirk at the stunned expression on the chuunin's face.

This time, when he left Konoha, it was with an inexplicable feeling of freedom.

* * *

**Tbc... **

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	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Title: _**Dark Soul**_

Series: Story #2. Sequel to 'Sand Walker'

Fandom: Naruto / SG-1

Author: Shi-koi

Warnings: Gaara-centric, violence, blood. Normal Naruto-verse stuff. Alternate timeline – Gaara isn't the Kazekage yet. Note the '_yet'. _The writing style changes from present to past tense in places, usually when Gaara has to interact directly to another person during a scene, so be prepared for that. Eventually it will have chunks from Naruto's perspective as well, but not for a long time.

Genre: Crossover, action/adventure, mild angst.

Pairings: None

**Summary: (Crossover) (Naruto – SG-1) Sequel to 'Sand Walker'. Set after the fight at the Valley of the End, and before the beginning of Naruto Shippuuden. This is one vision of Gaara's journey to be human.**

* * *

Gaara doesn't bother to return to Sunagakure. He can feel the sands calling to him, and the weight he didn't know he held on his shoulders had somehow lightened. Then there was the sand in his gourd. 

He stops by the glass sphere and seals it in a scroll for transportation. He can't help but admire it one more time before it disappears in a swirl of smoke. It's beautiful, certainly, and a mark of the old Gaara. This sand around him, full of Naruto's sacrifice is a part of the new Gaara.

Gaara walks slowly through the forest surrounding Konoha, purposely leaving the road. His sand captures small animals along the way, pulping them and absorbing their blood, flesh and bone. Gaara can sense the sand's excitement and anticipation, and he's reminded of a young child let out to play.

When the sand is sated for the time being, Gaara summons his sand shield and transports himself to his desert, savoring the familiarity and presence he can feel in each grain.

Gaara's wired for adventure though, and after only a few moments he's gone again, on another world, one he loves almost as much as his own.

Gaara likes this desert, it's long and wide and he can travel for weeks before hitting the oceans on either side, but it's not overwhelmingly vast. Gaara's been to a few planets which are made up completely of sand and rock and dirt and dust, most of which are devoid of life. They aren't fun.

Gaara follows a caravan as it meanders across the shifting sands, floating by on a cloud of his new sand. He can hardly hold back the sand's impulse to dive, roll and speed by, although Gaara himself knows that part of the problem is that the sand is picking up on long sublimated desires to act like a child.

Instead, Gaara settles for a few swoops when he knows he's out of visual range. His more sedate flight is saved for when he nears the caravan.

There are around forty camels with their cargo walking along, and a few of them are pulling large sled-type structures with families sitting on them, mostly with women, young children and a few elderly people. It looks like an entire family and all their relatives are relocating. Gaara is curious. He hasn't seen something like this before and he comes down close, skimming a few feet above the sand by one of the sleds.

There are shouts, calls, shrieks and even a few screams when he nears, but the children are mostly unafraid. The smallest ones babble excitedly, trying to touch his sand, but their mothers are holding them tight.

The caravan stops to watch. One girl, no more than four or five manages to catch a hold on a stray wisp of his sand, and Gaara cranes his head down to stare unblinking at her. She's as cute as a button, with wide black eyes and chocolate-coloured skin. Her head is covered but a few wisps of curly black hair peek out from the sides of the cloth. Her mother stares at him in fear, trying to hold her daughter back, but she's touched the sand, and now it wants to play.

A long curling tentacle of sand unfurls itself from Gaara gourd and wraps itself around the girl, lifting her from her shrieking mother's arms. Another male holds her and tries to quieten the crying woman. Gaara turns away, watching the girl.

The sand has folded itself beneath her and raised her on her own cushion to Gaara's level and she's ecstatic. She is fearless as she reaches out to touch his blood-red hair and her fingers linger on the crimson tattoo on the left side of Gaara's forehead. She doesn't know that Gaara's had it since he was six, that it was scribed there in sand and chakra as his uncle lay dead before him or that it says 'Love' in Gaara's own language, but right now, Gaara doesn't care.

The girl seems amazed at his pale skin and by his green eyes. Her fingers trace the coal-dark skin around his eyes, as black and heavy as Kohl, except that it doesn't rub off on her fingers.

Gaara's not used to pure childish curiosity, nor to the fearlessness she displays despite the reactions of the others in her caravan. There's a lump in his throat, and he doesn't know quite how to react.

Gaara gets the sudden urge to be playful, and he tells the sand to gather them up, giving the girl the ride of her life above the caravan. He stays well within visual distance of the caravan, but the reward of the girl's clapping and high-pitched bubbling laughter gives him the warmest feeling he's ever experienced in his short life.

When she opens her arms Gaara gathers her up and the sand lowers them to the solid flat sand beneath them. When Gaara takes her back to her mother there's relief and awe in her eyes, although the girl cries when Gaara steps back. It isn't hard for Gaara to summon some of his special sand to him and in front of the girl he crafts a small necklace with a glittering, perfect, _red_ diamond in the center of a thin smooth gold strand. They don't know it, but it's unbreakable, molded, shaped and preserved with Gaara's chakra. The diamond is one he's made himself, and when a jeweler checks it a few weeks down the line, they will be stunned at the purity and perfection of the gem.

There will never be another red diamond on this world.

But for now, the girl is happy. The sand carries the necklace to the girl and loops the chain around her neck, and Gaara can't help but wonder how things would have been if he'd been that cared for as a child. The girl lifts the gem and babbles happily to her mother, pointing at the gem then at Gaara's hair before hugging the gift towards her.

Gaara takes flight again, hovering close to the caravan train. There is reverence on many of the faces below and only a few of them are openly fearful. Gaara wonders if he should cut his losses and run, but he doesn't want to leave, not really.

The girl, sitting in her mother's lap, waves at him exuberantly as he passes by on another lap of the caravan.

Gaara waves back. Just. Barely. Hardly more than a quick flick of his fingers, but she sees it and her smile widens, showing off gleaming white teeth. The other children are congregating next to her, giving her looks of amazement. Gaara snorts. She's holding her own little court.

The caravan makes good time across the desert, and they settle down a scant hour before dusk. They set things up with the ease of long habit, arranging tents and campfires in less time than the average traveler.

The children, buoyed by the girl's success, clamor for Gaara's attention, calling up to him in his perch in the darkening sky. Gaara finds himself liking the attention, free of hateful glances and bitter words. These children are open and honest about their interest and there's no malice in their eyes or voices.

The sand gently lowers Gaara to the children, and within minutes he has them staring rapt as he creates sand animals and shows them playing. Small sand dogs run in circles chasing their tails as the children clap, little squirrels chatter with each other and dart up the children's backs to sit on small shoulders amidst laughter and tentative strokes against_ faux_-sand skin.

Soon a large area is made up of many creatures, including horses, lions and even the odd mammoth-sized bird. The children takes turn riding them, chittering sounds of glee coming from them in steady stream.

When they start to tire, and the scent of their supper is heavy on the rapidly cooling air, Gaara creates a small statue of their favourite creature, no larger than the palm of hand, firing them with his chakra. They '_Oooh_' and '_Aaah_' at the display, cradling the small animals carefully in their hands when Gaara's finished. He watches with his arms crossed over his chest when they run back to their parents, proudly showing off their prizes.

The mother of the first girl tentatively offers a bowl of the thick stew cooked on the fires and a plate with thickly cut warm bread. She gives Gaara a small but sincere smile when he accepts the offering, and he eats quietly and quickly, pretending not to notice the relief on the adult faces around the camp.

The younger members of the caravan whine and plead with their parents about having to go to bed, and Gaara has to hide the unintentional quirk of his lips. Once the children are tucked away in bed Gaara listens unabashedly to the older members of the caravan as they talk around the fires and he hears himself mentioned. He's the only person near with red hair, and who 'walks in the air on a path of sand' so he's fairly certain they mean him.

They talk in hushed tones of their journey, and Gaara can hear the fear, this time not because of him. Grazing grounds have become sparse and this family – he was right – are relocating to another village closer to a large oasis, quite near to the city he'd visited last trip. They talk of bandits who've been plaguing trade lines and killing all of the non-valuable members of the caravans they attack.

Their plans for defending the train of camels is crude and too easy to disrupt, but then again, they haven't had anywhere near the amount of war or battle training that Gaara has had. They _are_ desperate, and their plans show it. If they were attacked, Gaara estimates that against a force of only ten men they'd lose nine out of every ten men, and the rest would probably be killed shortly after.

Gaara wouldn't normally have cared, but he can't seem to put the girl's smile out of his mind, nor the looks of simple happiness and acceptance on the faces of the rest of the caravan's children. When he tries to imagine how he'd feel if they were killed he is surprised at the intensity of the pain which grips his chest. His heart.

The rest of the caravan, barring six sentries are asleep within the hour, and Gaara settles on a bed of sand nearly a mile above the camp. He would never admit it, but he's also keeping a lookout. He uses his third eye to watch the camp for him and he places a genjutsu around himself and his sand so he can't be seen.

The next morning there is a lot of shouting from the children, who are disappointed by Gaara's disappearance. A few of the elders quiet them by telling them stories, many of which bear a character resembling Gaara himself. Most of them Gaara's heard before through previous eavesdropping on other travelers, but this time the stories are changed slightly to accommodate Gaara.

It seems that, since they don't know Gaara's name, or his origin, that they are content to speculate through traditional folktales and word-of-mouth equivalents of fairy tales. Gaara's heard mention of him in relation to a God who was formed of the sand, who guards the shifting golden plains and who punishes wrongdoers. Others speak of him as a Demon who roams the sands, killing those who forget who rules the earthy sands.

The old man who tells most of the stories makes sure there's a clear moral to each fable, teaching desert savvy as well as ensuring that these children – who will one day grow up to be desert dwellers – remember the harshness of the desert.

Gaara listens quietly, if nothing else, the tales are entertaining. There was a time once when Yashamaru did the same for him, telling tall tales of distant lands and amazing creatures which fought and died.

Then Gaara found himself one of them. A creature. He wondered sometimes what happened to the forest he and Naruto decimated in their first fight. Gaara had released Shukaku and his true form was over a hundred and thirty feet tall, not including the size of his tail, held like a scorpion for half the fight.

Naruto had managed to summon the Toad Boss Gamabunta, who almost matched Shukaku in the height department, but when he and Naruto jointly transformed into the guise of the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox, the damage from the two forms combined was utterly incomprehensible.

At one point the transformed Gamabunta had uprooted a sixty foot tree and waved it around with one tail, throwing it as a ninja might throw a kunai blade at Shukaku and Gaara.

In the end, Naruto had beaten him. He can still remember Naruto's words. They were what changed his life.

"_Don't get near me!"_ It was the first time he'd been defeated. For the first time in years, Gaara'd felt terrified. Vulnerable. Helpless.

Naruto had seemed so sad when he'd dragged himself towards Gaara, determined to save his friends. "_The pain of being alone...is completely out of this world, isn't it? Being alone...being incomplete. What you must feel. What your pain must be, I don't know why...but I understand your feeling so much, it actually hurts. But I... I have people who are important to me now. I won't let you hurt my important people. If you do...I'll stop you, even if I have to kill you!" _

Gaara hadn't been able to move. His whole body was empty of energy, of stamina and chakra. "_Why... Why can you do this for other people?"_

Then, in those blue, blue eyes, he'd seen himself reflected. "_My loneliness... That hell... They saved me from it, and they acknowledged my existence. They're important to me... That's why. "_

He'd remembered Yashamaru then, remembered and felt...drained. Love wasn't real, was it? _"Love is the spirit of devoting yourself to someone important and close to you. It is expressed by caring for and protecting that person."_Naruto had beaten him. This kid he'd dismissed since he'd first laid eyes on him, this kid he'd thought was a weakling loudmouth...had defeated him, had fought through his terror to save his friends. _Love... Is that why he's strong? A maelstrom...is that what you are, Naruto?_

That had been Gaara's turning point.

No matter how many times Naruto had been put down, beaten and thrown aside, he'd still pushed himself upright, still forced himself to fight until he had nothing left to give.

Naruto had shown his true strength; and it had been more than Gaara's.

When Gaara turns his focus back to the caravan below, he finds them beginning to move. The low braying of the camels and multi-toned babble of the children is interspersed with the crying of a few very young babies and loud shouts from the men as they call back and forth down the long line of animals.

This day's travel is the same as the day before, and the day before that. Gaara keeps vigil above their heads, still invisible to their eyes thanks to the genjutsu still wrapped around him.

The sand is getting jittery and is craving blood. It's not feeling as vicious as Gaara's last gourd and Gaara is starting to think that more than just Naruto's power and Chakra was mixed in with his blood offering.

When the caravan stops at mid-day for a quick meal and to water the animals, Gaara eats a food pill of his own creation. The usual ones can keep a man going for three days and three nights by boosting his chakra and providing a dense dose of much needed nutrients, minerals and proteins. Gaara's focus is more on keeping his stamina high and his belly sated. Gaara's food pills can last a person for over a week.

The chakra boost isn't needed and he has specially crafted soldier pills for that. His food pills are useful for times like this, when he needs food, but doesn't want to spare time to cook. Or to draw attention to himself.

Gaara uses the time while the caravan is moving to slowly convert more sand into his own. He has a seal he can use to warp space in his gourd to allow many times it's own capacity to be stored inside it, but first he has to create the sand, then bond it to the seal first before applying it in blood to his gourd.

The seal is a fairly new one, and one of the reasons why he wasn't as worried as he should have been when his gourd was destroyed. The sand before was old, and very stubborn. It wouldn't have liked having a sudden influx of new sand inside with it, unlike his summoned sand, which disappeared back onto a separate plane of existence and never needed feeding, or chakra.

The more chakra Gaara gave to the sand, the more sentient it became. Or rather, the more of Shukaku's personality and desires leaked through. It didn't have any of Shukaku's actual self in it, but rather an unstable mix of both Gaara and Shukaku.

It was also completely loyal to Gaara, having bonded with him when he was still in his mother's womb.

Each grain of sand that Gaara converts is imprinted with a minuscule amount of chakra before being sent back to mingle with the rest of the sand in the desert. Gaara has this down to a fine art and can convert any sand in a two mile radius in a steady stream simply by applying his chakra in a constant vein beneath the surface of the sands.

Once the sand is imprinted Gaara will sift through it for grains strong with mineral deposits and those with weak deposits. He can pressurise the sand into exactly the type he wants, for different purposes. The denser sand is hard and heavy and uses more chakra to command, but is perfect for shields.

Mineral-weak sand is good for flying since it's just as strong, but a lot lighter, and Gaara has better control of the sand's maneuver. Medium density sand can be used for anything and that's the type of sand he's marking for his gourd. The other sands he'll add to his summons.

When the caravan settles for the night this time, Gaara gets a familiar tingle on the back of his neck. It's the same feeling he first got when Yashamaru tried to kill him by attacking him from behind when he was in tears because his overtures of friendship had been rebuffed. Another two people had called him a monster.

It was the first time he'd killed a man. Yashamaru had been the second.

Gaara's had the feeling on a few occasions since then, and the feeling has never let him down. Gaara has occasionally ignored the familiar warning when it sends shivers down his spine, but he's always lived to regret it.

The caravan seems to not notice anything, the entire camp going about their business as normal. They eat and sleep and post the usual first six sentries before the whole camp seems to shut down, even the animals are silent.

The night is clear and cool. There's no wind, or rain, or moisture. The cold seeps up through the ground and rises into the air slowly as the temperature drops from both sides. The moon is out and bright. It's only about two nights away from a full moon and the light it gives off bathes everything in a gentle silvery glow.

Gaara loves the night as much as he hates what it carries with it. Watching the night pass by in silence has long been a favourite past-time. It's usually odd to see the empty streets of his home after the bustle of the day, but he grew to appreciate the quiet and the peace it brought.

But then Shukaku became stronger, and Gaara was scared out of his mind that the beast was going to consume him from the inside out.

Gaara's come to a sort of peace with the creature he houses. Regular application of blood and chakra keeps Shukaku happy, and allows Gaara the time to meditate, which is the closest he's ever going to get to being able to sleep.

In return, Shukaku has stopped trying to escape and take over Gaara's consciousness, he knows Gaara would simply do something crazy like destroy half the known world to make a mark and kill himself at the same time.

Shukaku has no intent to die.

The camp is attacked at four in the morning. The sentries are attacked first and Gaara only just manages to replace them with clones to make them appear dead. Sand clones can take a _lot_ of damage.

There are around twenty or twenty-five attackers. Most of them are male, but there's one or two females and three of them actually look younger than Gaara.

The entire caravan is awoken by the screams and hollers of the attackers as they plunge into the camp.

Gaara's ready.

And excited.

The attackers are stopped where they are by arms of sand oozing up from out of the ground. Their screams have become terrified and a few of them are hacking away at the sand in horror. One man has fainted, another empties his guts out on the sand beside him.

Gaara allows the genjutsu to fall away and waits while the fires in the camp light up and the occupants of the tents stumble out. The men are armed, barely, but they stop dead when they see what's happened to the would-be bandits.

The few children that are awake spot Gaara hovering in the air and screech excitedly, garnering their parents attention.

Gaara lowers himself until he's close enough to step forward onto the sand below.

One boy tries to rush forward to Gaara but he's held back. A few of the men return the children to their tent and leave them in the safety of their mother's arms. Gaara looks different and he can feel it. His veins are thrumming with the desire for blood and he knows he's allowing Shukaku to influence him.

Gaara throws his head back and laughs. It sounds like a voice from hell.

Blue chakra flares to life around him, burning around him like a reverse flame. He brings his hands up and faces the first bandit. The acrid scent of the man's own urine is pungent in the air, but Gaara ignores that. The man will be dead in a few seconds.

The sand rises. Gaara slowly closes his fist as the man screams from the pressure.

"**Sabaku Kyuu!**" Gaara commands, and the '_Desert Coffin_' encases the man completely.

Gaara waits for a moment. Then his voice becomes even darker, laced with vicious enjoyment.

"**Sabaku Sousou!**" The '_Desert Funeral_' command makes the sand compact, pulping the man before he manages to scream again. The sand pulses and wet messy noise come from it. When the sand clears, only a few items drop down. The clothes the man wore, shredded into rags, a few small items he wore for decoration that the sand didn't want, his boots and a small piece of bad bone.

There are a few moments of incomprehension before someone screams and realisation dawns.

Gaara's smiling darkly.

The second bandit, slightly older and a bit broader starts pleading for his life, but Gaara ignores him. He may have been lenient before, but his sand is hungry and these people have as good as offered themselves on a platter to the Demon inside him.

Gaara raises both arms to encompass just over a dozen of the attackers. He can sense that there are a few more beyond the edge of the camp, but he allows them to stay free, after all, what good is a warning if there's no-one left to tell of it?

This time his "**Sabaku Kyuu!**" command encompasses all of the attackers selected. The sand rises and covers each of them in their own sand coffin. The last three bandits are screaming. They are further away, but to Gaara that's no problem.

Gaara sinks into the sand below him and rises behind the furthest man in less time than it takes to blink. He places his hands up and sand gathers in small circles, taking shape as golden-hued shuriken. "**Suna Shuriken!**" Gaara hisses, and the man is shredded before the eyes of the shocked witnesses. The blood is quickly absorbed by the sand, the bones and flesh sucked down into the ground to be eaten by Gaara's gourd.

A half dozen shots ring out from one of the men inside a _'Desert Coffin',_ but the sand is too dense for them to get through, and the only signs of the bullets are a few dents which slowly re-form. Gaara allows the sand back enough to see who kept their wits enough to try and escape.

The sand falls away to reveal a youth not much older than Gaara, who's panting heavily in the fresh air. He glares angrily at Gaara, and brings the small revolver up to aim at Gaara, even though he's trembling so hard he can barely aim.

Gaara stares at him, but the kid doesn't back down. Gaara snorts and turns his back on the kid, turning to the other '_Desert Coffin'_ structures. He holds up one pale hand and starts to clench his fist slowly, commanding "**Sabaku Sousou!**" slowly but firmly.

Sounds like a meat grinder reverberate throughout the sand and the sand turns red briefly, before the blood is absorbed. A few items deemed distasteful are discarded by the sand and are left behind when Gaara's gourd re-forms.

The kid behind Gaara vomits noisily, falling to his knees and clutching his stomach. When he's finished, he spits and snarls at Gaara angrily through the tears in his eyes. He calls Gaara a demon, but isn't prepared when Gaara smiles at him.

"I like you." Gaara says in a tone which terrifies the kid even more than the bloody display of power. The sand lifts him and throws him towards where the other members of the group – who didn't attack – are waiting. He lands heavily, breaking his arm with a wet-sounding _snap!_ but he stands anyway despite the pain. Gaara can see that he's decided that if he's going to die, he'll die on his feet.

"I'm going to let you live," Gaara states, "because I like your spirit. There aren't many who are willing to stand against me." Gaara turns around and walks away, pretending not to notice when the kid's eyes widen and he starts to run. Gaara knows that he'll join up with the few bandits who _didn't_ attack and he's kind of relieved that the three youths had only been watching.

The last two of the would-be raiders are not in a very good state. They are both hyperventilating and shaking, and one of them is screaming incoherently while the other one is scrabbling frantically at the sand chaining his legs with his bare hands.

The sand has fed well, and Gaara knows that the other raiders are still watching, so he decides to make an example out of the two men that are left.

Gaara lifts a hand and holds it palm out at the screaming man, slowly lowering it until the man is lower than the level of the sand's surface. There's a hole above the man's head and when Gaara makes a fist, there's a wet cracking sound and a geyser of blood sprays up from the hole, raining down in a four foot circle onto the sand and the second man.

From behind him, Gaara can hear the sounds of retching.

The last man looks crazy from fear and he cowers when Gaara raises his hands, bringing them in a triangle formation with him in their sights. The sand from around him rises into the air and forms into a cloud a dozen feet over his head.

Gaara speaks. "**Suna Hari Shigure!**" The _'Sand Needle Rain'_ jutsu is horrifyingly effective as long thin spikes impale the man through nearly every inch of his body.

The sand dissolves back into a shapeless mass of singular grains, and the man is still standing, bleeding out of his entire body. He seems to waver for a second before he falls, and Gaara knows he was dead from the moment the sand hit. Sand creeps over the downed body of the bandit and slowly drags him beneath the surface of the sand to be eaten, loud cracks and squelching sounds filter up before the sand spits back the remains it doesn't want.

Gaara crosses his arms as the blood splattered across the sand by the two men is slowly absorbed. Gaara's sand has never felt quite so full, he usually has someone telling him to stop playing, or is so overcome by an overwhelming bloodlust that he forgets all about feeding his sand and just wants to kill.

This new sand is different. Gaara can still feel his bloodlust roiling beneath the surface of his skin and in his sand, but it's not taking him over, sending him into a berserker rage.

Gaara thinks that Naruto's blood has something to do with this. It's as though he has a part of Naruto with him, helping him maintain his tenuous control.

Gaara wonders how much it would take to allow him to lose control _now_.

When Gaara finishes contemplating, he finds that the sand has cleared up the blood and all the tents have been emptied of their occupants. Gaara can sense the remaining bandits rapidly making their escape from this place which has become a deathtrap to them.

Gaara's focus is turned onto the camp. Many of the witnesses are looking disturbed, but there's something else there. No-one is meeting his eyes, and Gaara gets the niggling feeling that they're about to declare him a deity of some sort. He doesn't want that.

Gaara sighs.

One of the braver members of the caravan asks what Gaara knows they're all dying to know. "Are you...a God?"

Gaara shakes his head. He can still remember Yashamaru's words, telling him of what his mother said as she lay dying. _This child's name is Gaara. An _Asura _that loves himself. _Gaara felt his mouth twist with a half angry-half betrayed snarl. An Asura. A demon who defied Gods. Gaara knew he was a symbol of his mother's hatred. As his uncle told him before he died, _'You were not loved.'. _

"I am not a God." Gaara intoned in a voice coming as close to unemotional as he could manage, which was just between icy cold and hard with dark hatred. "I have been named an Asura. A Demon."

Blue chakra started to glow around Gaara, twisting around him, interspersed with low trailings of sand dancing around his feet. He started to rise in the air, hovering nearly a foot above the sand. Gaara could feel it's anger as his own feelings bled through his steel-fisted control. The sand which was so deep and volatile it took Gaara's emotions and magnified them, pulsing with it's own power and feeding it back to Gaara.

"I am **Gaara of the Desert**! I was born from the Sand, I am of the Sand and I exist because of the Sand."

The tents were emptying now, and Gaara had no idea of what he looked like in the night, casting off an incandescent blue light, his eyes looking murderous and sated all at once.

"I am in every step you take. In every tear or drop of sweat you shed. I am in the blood and the flesh of those with the Desert Spirit." Gaara could feel his power expanding as he spoke, and a moment of utterly perfect clarity struck him. Every grain of sand in every world on every plane of existence harmonised with him for an instant, and for that one moment he could touch anywhere, any when and could do anything. Life had never seemed so perfectly...clear.

Gaara could hear the laughter echoing in the sand beneath him on this world and the sighs of the sand on other worlds, planets and dimensions where he had yet to tread.

For that instant, the people of the caravan saw Gaara as a being of pure energy and they were awed.

Maybe it _was _a good thing Gaara was otherwise occupied.

In that moment Gaara felt the call of the sand echo from a few miles away, and he let the sand take him, disappearing before the eyes of the caravan in a gentle swirl of blue light and sand.

Gaara's legend would continue and strengthen.

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**Tbc**

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	4. Chapter 4

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**Title: _Dark Soul_**

Series: Story #2. Sequel to 'Sand Walker'

Fandom: Naruto / SG-1

Author: Shi-koi

Warnings: Gaara-centric, violence, blood. Normal Naruto-verse stuff. Alternate timeline – Gaara isn't the Kazekage yet. Note the '_yet'. _The writing style changes from present to past tense in places, usually when Gaara has to interact directly to another person during a scene, so be prepared for that. Eventually it will have chunks from Naruto's perspective as well, but not for a long time.

Genre: Crossover, action/adventure, mild angst.

Pairings: None

**Summary: (Crossover) (Naruto – SG-1) Sequel to 'Sand Walker'. Set after the fight at the Valley of the End, and before the beginning of Naruto Shippuuden. This is one vision of Gaara's journey to be human.**

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**Notes 1: Sorry it's taken me so long to update. On the good side, however, this is where Stargate really comes into play. On the bad side, it may not be what most of you are expecting.**

**Notes 2: The style changes a bit during this. This story was primarily an exercise in style application, so forgive me if it seems a bit odd. I hope you enjoy it anyway.**

**Notes 3: This story isn't yaoi or slash. In fact, it has no pairings at all. No het, no slash, nothing. Okay? It's a gen friendship fic, no more, no less. I've been writing some yaoi out-takes, but they are just to fufill my own desire to explore character alternatives, and have no bearing on this story. I don't think I'll even be posting them.**

**Notes 4: Red Moon versus Red Dawn (and variations thereof). When I started writing this, Yondaime-sama had no name, and the Akatsuki were translated as the Red Moon... I'm sticking to that for now, because this fic is an AU anyway, now that we know so much more about everything in the Naruto-verse.**

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::

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Gaara can feel something...alien in the sands dunes calling him. Alien even to this world. 

The people of this world call it 'Earth', which is quite unimaginative, naming a planet after it's dirt. Then again, to Gaara, nothing will compare to the elegant beauty of his sands, but calling a world 'Sand' just wouldn't be appropriate.

This desert is full of lush oasis and long dry plains. The Northern-most end has rivers and fields which are a delight to sense. The sands beneath them thick and heavy with nutrients from the largest body of flowing water Gaara's seen in a long time inside a desert.

The Southern-most end is harsher, with mountains, valleys and even prairies.

Gaara prefers the North side.

The sand sets Gaara down gently and the blue of his chakra softly settles. He feels as though he's coming down from a mission high, and it's been so long since he needed stimulants to enhance his performance that he has to take a few seconds to adjust to the similar sensations.

There's a reason why he makes his own Hyourougan, soldier pills.

There are loud jarring noises drifting down over the dunes, and Gaara cautiously edges closer. The night darkness is helping to conceal him, but it won't be hard for him to be spotted by an industrious sentry, his skin is just too pale and his hair too bright.

Then again, Gaara thinks as he wraps a genjutsu around himself to hide him from prying eyes, as long as he's not up against another ninja, he could probably walk right in unseen.

Gaara's never been the best person at genjutsu, but all shinobi are taught how to cover themselves in illusions to hide themselves, and Gaara is nothing if not thorough. He has the usual basic ninja arsenal of genjutsu, but not much more than those he uses for stealth. He can't attack with them, or use them productively in a battle.

Not like the elder Uchiha can, _his_ genjutsu are legendary. Gaara knows the elder Uchiha, Itachi, has an attack which, when used, is so traumatic and torturous it places the victim in a coma. Most victims of which end up never waking from, their mind simply unrecoverable.

Gaara knows because the elder Uchiha is a part of the Akatsuki, the Red Moon, and the Akatsuki are after his and Naruto's demons, or more specifically, after Naruto himself. Uchiha Itachi has been after Naruto since the blonde was twelve.

Itachi was so ruthless in his pursuit of Naruto that he used the Mangekyou Sharingan and tortured his own little brother, who was only twelve at the time – after breaking both his wrists and beating him almost to the point of unconsciousness in front of Naruto's eyes, with Naruto unable to do anything to help – when Sasuke crossed Itachi's path and tried to stop him, to avenge the murder of his family and clan.

Uchiha Itachi, the same Uchiha Itachi who murdered his entire clan when he was barely fourteen years old. Hundreds of people carrying the Uchiha blood, so many of them they had an entire district of Konoha to themselves and policed the whole of Konoha were killed in the space of a single afternoon.

The Uchiha, who were spoken of in hushed tones they were so powerful, annihilated by the son of the head of their clan.

Gaara likes to know his enemies beforehand, and likes to plan a counter-offensive to keep in reserve. Hearing that Uchiha Itachi is after you is a disturbingly scary thing.

Hence his recent study of genjutsu.

Gaara knows enough to protect his mind against another shinobi, and that small amount of knowledge is more than enough to pass undetected on this planet.

When Gaara clears the rise of the sand dune, he can see the light from many harshly-bright torches dotting the lower levels of sand below him. There are large trucks, crates, tents and people in military garb.

Gaara doesn't like the look of them.

The majority of the people below are not dark, or large, or swarthy...and they don't look anything like the native of _this_ desert. There are mostly white people mixed in with all the rest, and their mannerisms are those of foreigners.

The sands hum their worry. Not because of this strange military – the sands have existed too long to be concerned by mortals – but because of whatever it is that they are unearthing from the stone structures which must have been revealed in a recent sandstorm.

Whatever is in those chambers that has the sands of this world worried, also worries Gaara. He sits down and allows himself to sink deep into the sand, beginning his meditations to allow his mind to freely contact the living spirit of the sands.

The sands are worried, the last time creatures like the one still in the stone chamber were allowed to roam freely they stole many of the sand's children. The desert dwellers who lived and died on _her_ surface were stolen away and never returned.

They know Gaara. Gaara is one of _her_ special children, even if he wasn't born on her plains. Gaara belongs to _all_ sands on _all_ plains and is bonded to every single grain in existence.

And, Gaara understands fear.

Gaara rises to the surface and stares into the gently sloping valley below, much of the lower level caused by the diggers still working to remove the sand from the structures.

Gaara estimates that dawn is less than an hour away, and he knows that the workers will increase in the daylight. He hasn't got time for a complicated plan, so he makes himself comfortable on a cloud of sand and hovers above the stone buildings. He uses his third eye jutsu to take a look inside the building and around the camp.

It would be odd to see an eyeball floating around the camp, so Gaara wraps it inside a minor genjutsu, something which is quite difficult to do to an object that is half summon, half ninjutsu. Gaara can do it with a little bit of concentration, immensely glad for his extremely large chakra reserve.

There's nothing particularly strange about these people, other than the fact that as military types, they seem a bit too weak for Gaara's liking. They have machines, guns and lots and lots of men, but they don't seem any stronger than the worst placed Genin ninja.

Gaara's own world has plenty of technology, but not quite to the same standards shown here. They got rid of guns a long, long time ago, after all, what was the point of a projectile weapon who's ammunition couldn't follow the enemy if you wanted it to, or was used against foes who could easily and regularly move faster than a whole slew of bullets?

Most of the technology left was mainly used for communication, and even then, mostly by lower lever ninja and ordinary people with no ninja training, or by teams working together in situations where any use of chakra would be discovered.

Gaara's world was virtually unpolluted, since fossil fuels were very rarely used and even then, only in small quantities. Even the large cities and towns ran on electricity. There were no cars, like on this world, although Gaara did quite like one method of transportation he'd seen on a different world, here they ran on terrible, smelly, thick and usually damaging (to the environment around them) fuels.

On the plus side, the fuel they used in their trucks would be perfect for a diversion as it was so wonderfully flammable.

There are eight trucks on-site. Three are empty, two have food and one has crates stacked up in it. The last two have people inside them. Gaara creates five sand clones inside the three empty trucks and the two with food in them. At his signal they start driving away into the desert. Gaara doesn't know enough to really control them, although figuring them out is easy, the experience needed to really drive them has never interested Gaara.

The camp is in uproar as the military presence in the camp realise what's happening and go on alert. Gaara simply walks straight through them until he safely enters the rapidly clearing stone buildings. It's easy for him to walk along the ceilings to avoid detection, since the workers are pouring down the tunnels and corridors at the sounds of shouting and yelling going on outside.

After a half dozen minutes the structures are completely clear, leaving Gaara to his own devices inside them. There's a pulse in the sand that only Gaara can feel, directing Gaara to one seemingly bare wall. Gaara spreads his chakra thinly across the surface until he can sense the different areas of the stone.

It takes a small amount of chakra applied in exactly the right places for the door to open when Gaara presses against it. The room before him is dark and musty, and a flood of dusty sand and stale air rushes out when the heavy stone door swings open on concealed hinges. Gaara removes a torch from the main room and takes it with him when he steps inside the hidden room. He lights the few torches still in their places with it before placing it in an empty holder.

The genjutsu Gaara has activated is released. Gaara has a feeling he's going to need his chakra, and it could be slightly awkward maintaining his genjutsu when he gets to where the sand wants him to go.

Gaara doesn't need the sand to tell him where he needs to go. There's a large display shelf type thing built into the wall, lit by a golden light. There is a lot of gold in this room, excessively so.

Choosing one of his larger scrolls from his bag, Gaara spreads it out and inks new sealing instructions on it using his travel pot of ink and usual brush. The sand carries everything from the shelves to the scroll, although the scroll is lost beneath the sheer _amount_ of items. Palms together, Gaara summons the right amount of chakra and then thrusts his hands down onto the only clear portion of the scroll, the circle inked out for his palm.

The chakra hisses and envelops the items, turning them into small characters on the scroll, completely flat, ready to be summoned.

There's only one item remaining in the room. It looks like a long carved coffin made out of gold with the relief of a person in ceremonial finery across the top. Gaara transcribes another scroll ready for this item, it was simply too large to be placed in the other scroll, then he steps forward and examines the coffin.

When his hand brushes against the side of the item, it starts to hum, and when it opens, the soft golden glow insides reveals a woman sleeping. She's wearing an outfit that gleams with thousands of woven gems and long strands of gold. Her skin is lightly tanned and her eyes are lined in black Kohl.

Gaara stares at her. The sand is swirling in agitation around his feet, partially drifting up the side of the now open coffin, but not really wanting to get any nearer to the creature with the human face. Gaara steps back when she sits up and starts to rise. She steps gracefully out of the coffin and stands on the sandy floor before Gaara. She's at least a head taller than him, which Gaara's used to. Naruto and children are the only ones the same height as him.

When she smiles her eyes glow gold and her voice when she speaks is deep and multi-tonal. Her face twists in anger when Gaara doesn't answer, but to be honest, he only understood maybe one word out of a dozen.

He knows what she is now. Creatures of her kind have been on other places he's been to, although he's never been as close to one as he is now.

When she snarls and lifts one hand up with a device he recognises as a weapon the sand lashes out and slams into her, throwing her against the stone wall.

Her look of shock is almost comical, and Gaara can't help but smirk, although it's so small only someone who knows him well would be able to see it.

The woman has now beencategorised as a threat and Gaara's in no mood to mess around, so his sand just holds her still and twists off her head at the neck, ripping her apart. The two halves are thrown to one corner of the room and discarded. There is something...distasteful...about her blood, and Gaara doesn't know whether he should be surprised or not at the blue blood spilling out onto the sand and mixing with the red blood still being poured onto the sand from the gaping hole that was her neck.

Gaara traces his hand across the same area that he touched to make the coffin open, and is rewarded for his efforts when the lid swings shut again, leaving the room lit by torchlight again. Gaara seals the coffin away and stows the scroll beside the first one in his bag.

There's nothing else worth taking in the room, and the only signs Gaara leaves of his passing are the empty, dustless spaces left from the items Gaara has taken with him.

Gaara recalls the sand clones back to him, and he knows they'll be waiting as shapeless sand when he gets outside. The sand is happy, and Gaara can sense it's relief.

The empty chamber with the now cooling corpse is left as it is, and Gaara doesn't bother to close the door again, or to extinguish the torches. He's done what he needs to do, and he has no intention of hanging around longer than he must.

The sand from his clones rejoins him when Gaara gets back outside. The sun has risen and the panicked cries have lessened somewhat. Gaara realises he hasn't reactivated his genjutsu when a few startled shouts are aimed his way and he realises that they can see him.

A few guns are raised and their muzzles are pointed at him in warning. Further back, Gaara can see some of the diggers and other native workers staring at him in undisguised awe. Gaara knows that they've probably heard stories about who he is.

One of the soldiers calls out a warning, and a few soldiers are dispatched to his position. Gaara re-calls his third eye summon and releases it, bringing back all traces of excess chakra. When the soldiers surround Gaara, he lifts his head and stares unblinkingly at the closest one.

The soldiers are wary of him, and Gaara wonders for a moment if they believe him to be the creature that he killed inside the structures. One at a time the men close in, lessening any normal person's ability to escape.

Gaara doesn't care.

Before the soldiers get any closer, Gaara calls up the sand, and it whirls around him in a rapid flurry of grit, dirt and his own sand, transporting him in the blink of an eye.

He wonders what the soldiers will do when the sand falls to the ground and there's no-one left there any more.

The thought makes his lips twitch.

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::

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Gaara spends the next few weeks traveling from market to market. He paces them out to prevent the gossip reaching the places he goes to before he has a chance to visit. There are many places on this particular world with sand, hundreds of them are beaches. 

One place has sand so white each grain glitters like a single diamond. The ocean laps gently in shimmering waves. In the dawn the sands seem to glow in an unearthly light, and in the dusk it burns brightly in a beautifully fiery array.

In this place, Gaara sealed twelve gourd-fulls of the pale sand to take home with him.

The beach Gaara is staying at now has delightful little beach huts directly opening onto the beach and they offer greatly coveted privacy. Gaara has long since changed a good few handfuls of his gems for the local currency, and as a result, has gained a bit of a reputation for paying well for excellent service.

There are lots of small shops selling items made on the island, and many places will actually make what you want from their selections. Gaara found himself buying even more on this island than on his previous four trips.

He can't help it. This island specialises in many kinds of hand-crafted puzzles, and they sell games by the truckload. Their selection of mind-bendingly difficult puzzles and brainteasers are impossible for Gaara to ignore. He knows he now has enough to keep him occupied for _years._

Gaara has been trying hard not to stand out in any extraordinary way. He doesn't carry his sand gourd with him, and he has done his best to actually _restrain_ the sand that travels around him physically with his chakra.

So far, he hasn't had any problems.

He's learnt the language of the islands, and each day he goes out for a walk and listens to people when they talk. Some of them try to cajole him into a game or two, whether it's something simple like a board game, or rather more difficult and involving more people, like tag.

Even the adults of this place don't seem to have grown up.

Everyone is pleasant, or at least so relaxed they can't put forth the effort needed to be rude. Jokes, stories and games are a part of everyone's days, even the workers have fun at night when they're off-duty. Fires light up a long stretch of the beach away from the huts ready for the regular evening entertainment.

It's the sort of place Gaara can lose himself in. It doesn't take him any effort to enjoy himself, and the islanders doesn't take offence with him when he goes for hours without talking.

Gaara's used to a blindingly hot sun, so during the day he has no problems watching as a gaggle of women with younger children flock down to the beach, the elder ones with baskets full of what Gaara knows to weaving necessities, the younger girls watching over their much younger siblings and charges.

Every day they work, and Gaara finds it fascinating to watch as mats, baskets, dolls, blinds, wall decorations and even strange grass skirts and small accessories are constructed amidst the laughter and chatter.

Gaara's already bought enough to furnish an entire house.

Gaara likes this world, more than he thinks he should. There are enough similarities with the places he visits not to throw him off, but it's different and diverse enough to keep his attention.

Gaara finds himself surprised when he realises he doesn't want to return back to Sunagakure yet. But it's Kankurou's birthday in two days, and Gaara wants to see his older brother's face when he finds Gaara's presents.

Sometimes, Gaara feels like he's stepped into someone else's shoes, and is living their life. The moment usually passes quickly though, and Gaara finds himself wondering if those flashes are shades of the person he would have been without the influence of Shukaku within him.

Gaara spends the last night on the beach until dawn starts to glow faintly on the horizon, enjoying the gentle transition from the balmy night to the crisp morning air and the lightening of the sky above the ocean. There's nothing quite like his desert for beauty, but Gaara's beginning to think this beach retreat comes pretty damn near close.

His beach accommodation is prepaid for, and the housekeeping unit will be along sometime mid-morning so there is really no need for Gaara to hang around...but he does so anyway, until the day has a firm hold overhead.

The beach starts to fill up, and Gaara decides it's finally time. He waits though, until he's hidden behind a copse of trees which pepper the beach before calling up his sand and disappearing. No matter how many times he travels, there's still something terribly sad, and greatly invigorating about_feeling_ and _hearing_ the sands around him change. The island sands had a jangly musical sound to them. Sunagakure's sand was delicate almost...but with an intensity which would haunt Gaara if he chose to never return.

Sunagakure is in the distance when Gaara reappears on his homeland's sands. There's recognition and a note of welcome humming through them and the grains swirl playfully around his legs as he walks.

Gaara's first stop is to his small treasure room, and he selects a few of the best crafted dolls he's bought from around the worlds on his travels and wraps them in sand, hardening the sand around each present until they look like a stack of eggs with toughened shells. Small patterns of precious gems gleam in the sand in delicate interweaving patterns made from rich dark amethysts, a dark sapphires, fiery orange-red rubies or clear diamonds, lying beside a few of eggs veined with black ebony. His favourite one is threaded with the pale sand he found on a far off beach creating subtle shapes and patterns that drew the eye. There's no sand like that here.

The finished presents are placed carefully in Gaara's room, one of the few places in the village that he knows no-one will willingly enter without his express permission. Not that anyone would request it. His bag is emptied and his remaining supplies, scrolls and his bandages are put away, his clothes changed into his reddish-brown trousers and matching long-sleeved-high-necked top. A small silvery button gleams at his neck beside the white sash draped over his right shoulder, partially covering the leather harness he uses for his gourd. The excess material that he wraps around the sand gourd is tied around his waist.

Inside Sunagakure the ground itself is his weapon.

Gaara stops long enough to throw his dirty clothes in the laundry basket downstairs and to get something to eat. When he's finished he walks to the Kazekage's hall and drops off his now redundant pass. There's a surprising amount of commotion going on and a lot of hushed, but still frantic whispering going on. A handful of passing shinobi give Gaara looks which he doesn't know how to decipher. The glances aren't hostile, but they _are_ appraising and a bit...worried?

Gaara _heard_ Naruto before he saw him. Loud shouting drifted out through the thick wooden doors to the hall, and the on-duty shinobi at the doors looked extremely uncomfortable to Gaara's experienced eyes.

The shinobi inclined their heads respectfully to Gaara and one of them opened the door for him, allowing the noise to intensify.

"..hell you guys are thinking!"

A few seconds later a familiar blonde came barreling out through the open door, skidding to a stop with wide blue eyes staring at Gaara with something akin to embarrassed surprise. There was still a high level of noise coming from the hall, so Gaara roughly grabbed Naruto's sleeve – noting happily as he did so that the blonde was in a typical chuunin uniform and not in his usual garish orange outfit – and tugged his quarry down the corridor, ignoring the startled yelp from the blonde and quelling the looks that the shinobi guards gave them.

Gaara pushed Naruto into an empty room and leant against the wall, crossing his arms and wondering to himself what the hell was going on. Naruto being here was the last thing he'd ever expected, especially in light of their last conversation, not to mention the look on Naruto's face when he'd seen Gaara.

"Oi, oi," Naruto squawked as he regained his balance, "what the hell was that for, Gaara?"

Gaara stared at him until Naruto chuckled nervously.

"Ah!" Naruto's face lightened up suddenly and he smiled warmly, bounding over in such as way that Gaara was reminded of a playful puppy. "I never got to say thanks!"

Gaara blinked and fought not to look confused. "Eh?"

"I don't know what you did," Naruto said dryly, shaking his head, "but it worked, whatever it was."

"Oh."

Naruto smiled at him happily. "Yeah. I haven't been able to get a good mission like this for nearly half a year, and the ones before that were pretty crappy."

"What are you doing here anyway, Naruto?" Gaara kept his arms crossed as he leant against the wall. He studied Naruto intently, happy, and quite a bit relieved that traces of the old Naruto he had seen before were starting to show.

"You don't know?" Naruto looked incredulous. "I mean, what with all the negotiations, I'd've thought you'd've been right there in the thick of things."

"Naruto." Gaara's voice held a warning.

Naruto gave him a sheepish grin. "Ah, I'm here as part of a three-part liaison. Three chuunin from Leaf exchanged for three chuunin from Sand. I'm here to shadow you."

Gaara frowned. "Why you?"

"Aa." Naruto shrugged. "That's the weird part. I wasn't supposed to be here, but no-one else wanted to come and Tsunade-baa-chan said that there wasn't any reason for me _not_ to come, after all," he stated bitterly, "it's not as though I have an overflowing calender full of unavoidable missions lined up."

"That still doesn't explain why you were paired with me." Gaara pointed out.

Naruto snorted and rolled his eyes. "Do you really think Konoha would have sent me here without making sure that my '_keeper_'," Naruto made the small sarcastic hand movements as he spoke, "is someone well equipped to keep me in line."

"They chose me?!" Gaara couldn't keep the surprise and shock out of his voice. "Do they have any idea of who I am...what I am?" Gaara rubbed his forehead, a move Naruto recognised from his last visit as a nervous habit.

"Well, they _do_ have all the mission reports which involve you, and they probably have a lot more as rumors, so, yeah, they probably know about you. Maybe that's why they stuck you with me." Naruto shrugged unconcernedly. "Honestly speaking, I'm glad I got assigned to you. At least with you I know where I stand."

Gaara felt a niggling spear of doubt in his stomach. "Do you have to accompany me on my missions?"

"Yep!" Naruto gave him a thumbs up. "But don't worry, I shouldn't slow you down, ne?"

Doubt hardened into certainly. "Naruto," Gaara started slowly, "I only take 'S' class missions."

Naruto froze, his eyes going impossibly wide. "W-what?!"

"I haven't taken a lower classed mission in nearly two years. The last 'S' class mission I went on, only my siblings and I survived. There were originally five of us." Gaara said, his voice lowering until Naruto had to lean in close to hear him.

"If you went with me, there would be a very good chance that you would die." Gaara felt like flinching at the slowly growing look of comprehension in Naruto's expressive blue eyes.

"But I'm strong." Naruto whispered. "I am. I know I am. Maybe they just have faith in me."

Gaara shook his head. "Maybe they're trying to kill you."

Naruto's eyes shuttered and dulled. "Tsunade-baa-chan wouldn't do that to me."

"Naruto, tell me honestly. If we were given an 'S' class stealth mission, would you be able to carry it out without drawing notice to yourself? Would you be able to distance yourself from all distractions to the target? I don't mean just assassinations, some missions are 'S' classed because of their content, because of the high risk of mental breakdown." Gaara stared at Naruto, catching his eyes and forcing him to keep his gaze steady.

There were things Gaara had done in the name of the mission which he _knew_ Naruto would not be _capable_ of doing. Things like turning a blind eye when innocents were being killed or simply tortured for fun, cases where Gaara had had to kill the enemy's hostage alongside with the target simply to ensure there would be no escape.

Naruto was virtually undefeatable when he set his mind to something, and he'd carried out assassinations just like Gaara had, but not at 'S' class level. He'd fought foes which could have killed Gaara and walked away...but when it came to matters of conscience Naruto was incapable of acting strictly to the letter of the mission without severe mental repercussions.

Knowing Naruto, he would still do his best to carry out his mission, but Gaara had seen what happened to shinobi who did that, most of them went mad. That wasn't an option when it came to Naruto. Not only because he was precious to Gaara, but because of the Kyuubi inside him.

"How stable are you, mentally, right now? How is your health? How stable is your chakra?" Gaara continued relentlessly. "In a flat out fight to the death, you'd be even better than me at overwhelming the opponents. You're best suited for the majority of 'B' and 'A' ranked missions, missions which need sheer power and a good, solid base for intimidation."

Naruto took the chance to look away, wrapping his arms protectively around his chest.

"Naruto, I saw your seal the last time I was in Konoha. You can't tell me there haven't been problems?" Gaara pressed.

Naruto shook his head. "Just a few fluctuations when my chakra tries to merge with the Kyuubi's." He shrugged again, hunching his shoulders inward. "I made money, not from missions, but I made it, and I've been able to eat properly and go around and exercise. I've managed to up my training and I've even learnt a few more techniques from Ero-sennin and Tsunade-baa-chan and Shizune-nee-chan."

"But...? That's not all, is it?" Gaara asked quietly.

"No..well, the Council wanted to keep an eye on the seal, and they were worried about the Kyuubi breaking out..." Naruto trailed off.

"Naruto." Gaara's voice hardened. "What did they do, Naruto?"

Naruto flinched. "I'm on an experimental medication to suppress my chakra usage. They said that it would make sure the Kyuubi couldn't break free, but I still have enough chakra to mold. Just...not as much."

"Enough to survive and complete a gamut of extremely difficult and life-threatening 'S' class missions with a partner who leans towards bloody rampages?" Gaara clenched his fists. Even if Naruto was playing dumb, he could still see what was happening. "How much of this medication have you taken?"

"I don't know, maybe a month's worth?"

"Stop taking it." Gaara commanded harshly. "I'll refuse any missions which come up in that time."

"Gaara! You can't! They'll only go and place me with someone else!" Naruto hissed worriedly.

"Then I'll complete them by myself!" Gaara snarled back. "I'm not fucking watching you die because those snobbish short-sighted little peons have no idea of what you are really like and want to destroy one of Konoha's darker secrets."

Gaara hit the wall beside him with one fist, hard enough to crack the stone. "Dammit Naruto, you can't be this naïve! I'll take you on the missions with me, and leave you somewhere safe while I complete them by myself. We'll match stories up on the journeys back and we'll make sure you don't die."

Naruto stood up straighter. "I can't do that, Gaara. I'm not letting you take the damage for me. I just can't believe that Tsunade-baa-chan would send me here with the intent of killing me. I can't!"

Gaara shook his head, a small smile starting to twitch at the corner of his lips. Had he been anyone else he might've sighed. Naruto was Naruto was Naruto, and for some reason this knowledge reassured him.

"Naruto, Naruto, Naruto. Don't ever change." Gaara clapped a hand on Naruto's shoulders, gripping him tightly. He drew Naruto forward close enough to whisper in the blonde's ear. "I missed you."

When he walked away, Naruto followed, a smile starting to form on his own face.

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**tbc...**

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	5. Chapter 5

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**Title: _Dark Soul_**

Series: Story #2. Sequel to 'Sand Walker'

Fandom: Naruto / SG-1

Author: Shi-koi

Warnings: Gaara-centric, violence, blood. Normal Naruto-verse stuff. Alternate timeline – Gaara isn't the Kazekage yet. Note the '_yet'. _The writing style changes from present to past tense in places, usually when Gaara has to interact directly to another person during a scene, so be prepared for that. Eventually it will have chunks from Naruto's perspective as well, but not for a long time.

Genre: Crossover, action/adventure, mild angst.

Pairings: None

**Summary: (Crossover) (Naruto – SG-1) Sequel to 'Sand Walker'. Set after the fight at the Valley of the End, and before the beginning of Naruto Shippuuden. This is one vision of Gaara's journey to be human.**

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_Notes 01: This fic is now completely AU, please don't complain. I planned this storyline out when I first read the manga as it was coming out, and I am not changing the plot regardless of canon, okay? So, everything in this story is Alternate Universe (tm) material._

_Notes 02: If you see any mistakes, (because I rewrote this chapter four or five...or was it six...times now, so I may have missed something) please let me know._

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Naruto was almost annoyingly cheerful as he walked beside Gaara, much to Gaara's consternation. It was as if the thought that his life may be in danger from his own village meant nothing to him.

Just how deep _did_ Naruto's mask go?

The house Gaara shared with his siblings was large enough for a family and their extended relations to live in comfortably. For a family of three, it was ridiculously huge. Each of them had their own suite of rooms, although they shared the kitchen, dining room and main living room.

Naruto gazed about the place with wide eyes, poking his head into all the different rooms and opening doors as he came across them.

"Gaara, this place is terrific!"

Gaara fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as he sighed. Snagging the blonde by his collar as he bounded past again, Gaara said very softly, if not slightly harshly, "Naruto...if you do not calm down this instant, I will make you sleep outside."

"Eh...heh...heh..." Naruto gave him a sloppy salute. "Gotcha."

Gaara dropped Naruto, who sat there on the wooden flooring, rubbing at the place he landed.

"You didn't need to drop me!" Naruto protested.

"You're a ninja. You should have anticipated the act, even if you hadn't, you should have been physically prepared for anything." Gaara stated flatly.

Naruto groaned. "Oh man, what have I let myself in for?"

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Living with Naruto is not as stressful as he would have imagined. Naruto knew how to work hard, be quiet, and stay out of sight, which meant that there was a much needed air of serenity in Gaara's daily life. When they were in the training grounds or around the other two Konohagakure bred shinobi the old Naruto personality exploded into being with violently extreme ferocity, and Naruto himself became quicksilver in his movements. His lightning-fast tongue, as well as a sudden increase in the volume of his voice assured any nearby that the vivacious blonde remained unchanged.

During those times, Gaara found himself watching Naruto, cataloging the few flashes in his eyes which could have betrayed him. Loathing, self-contempt and in a few cases, a deep-seated anger would briefly ignite, only to be quickly and effectively smothered by a few well-placed arrogant and provocative boasts.

Gaara knows he has no intentions of emulating Naruto directly, but he finds the idea of using him as a comparison for his own ideals and behaviour somewhat comforting. It's easier somehow when you have a yardstick to measure your own growth by.

Gaara wonders how Naruto would react if Gaara offered to bring him on one of his 'trips'.

The first mission comes through for them six days after Gaara's return. Things are strange between him and his siblings, and Kankurou has been giving him odd sidelong glances when he believes his younger brother is unaware of his scrutiny.

Gaara still can't stop smirking at the recollection of the look of intense shock on Kankurou's face when he found Gaara's presents.

Maybe there _was_ something to be said about this family thing.

Kankurou and Temari aren't coming on this mission, but Naruto is. Naruto is the personification of stubborn determination in regards to his wholehearted involvement with Gaara's mission, and Gaara's given up trying to persuade the Leaf chuunin otherwise.

He isn't going to let Naruto die though.

This mission is a combination of both an assassination and a retrieval of an important scroll which was thought to be lost many years ago in a fire during a raid while Sand was at war many years earlier. It's classed as an 'S' class mission because word has reached the Kazekage that there are certainly missing-nin after the scroll as well, not to mention the fact that the scroll is with the target (currently a guest of the Raikage), who happens to be a high-ranking member of the Council of the Hidden Rock Village in Stone Country, as well as a personal friend of the Tsuchikage, and a relation of the Cloud's Raikage, of Lightning Country. The scroll was gifted from Cloud, and the Cloud are long-time enemies of the Leaf, who are allied with Sand.

The only thing which could make this mission even worse is if the scroll contains information the Snake Sannin Orochimaru may decide he wants. Hopefully, this mission will be too low ranking serious involvement from other shinobi, and the scroll will not hold anything the Sound will want.

It will take a few weeks for them to get to Hidden Cloud Village, which is where their target is staying, and that will give them enough time for Naruto to burn through some of the drug he was given. Even with his heightened healing capabilities the drug was proving to be remarkably insidious and long-lasting. Perhaps it was just that Naruto's body didn't view it as something which caused direct damage and thus was not considered to be a viable target for his body to heal or eradicate.

Whatever the reason for it, Gaara was just glad that if things went his way, Naruto would be able to fight on an even playing field soon.

Both shinobi pack light, neither of them needing to bring any more than basic bandages, (and in Naruto's case a rolled sleeping mat and thin heat-conserving blanket). Gaara's food pills and soldier pills are more than adequate for their needs, and both of them have every intention of hunting to fill their stomachs. Gaara's summoning scroll for his tent and bedding is useful, but since Gaara doesn't sleep, and Naruto's healing capabilities are so far above normal, neither of them need much rest at night, so the summon will most likely be saved unless it rains.

The journey to Cloud could be taken by traveling directly across Fire Country, which is where the Leaf is, but both shinobi decide to take the slightly longer route and travel through the long expanse of neutral territory which spans the continent to Lightning Country.

To be exact, the expanse is not _completely_ neutral, in that there _are_ hidden nin-villages amongst them, however none of them are affiliated with the five great shinobi countries, Fire, Wind, Stone, Lightning and Water, and are thus free from political loyalties.

Although to be technical, with Orochimaru creating Otogakure, the Hidden Village of Sound, there should be six of them. Sound wasn't big, but it rivaled all five of the larger shinobi states when it came to terms of power and ruthlessness.

Gaara's relieved that as they travel, Naruto settles down into a sort of calm, halfway between his normal boisterous personality, and the deadly quiescence that all shinobi need to complete their missions. It's a bit odd nonetheless, seeing Naruto like this, even though his behavior is welcomed.

Both shinobi are dressed for the weather, and Naruto has left his bright orange outfit behind, opting for skintight clothes in a mix of dark greys and black under the olive green chuunin vest he wears. During a battle, anything can be used as a weapon, even your own clothes. Naruto's made sure there's nothing for the enemy to hold onto to use against him.

Gaara's wearing his favourite dark reddish-brown leather outfit, although he's deigned to leave the white swathe of material behind, swapping it for a black, thick length of cloth, which is bound around his gourd and his body. With the amount of blood he usually ends up covered in, this is probably for the best. The stains won't show so well.

The sand becomes rocky ground, which becomes sparsely grassed patches of land as they reach the end of the Wind Country territory. The Fire Country is an immensely large stretch of greenery, ranging from meadows to forests and the few rocky hills and mountains are full of hardy trees and grass. Even skirting by the Fire Country border they can see much of the same sort of terrain that they would have found in Naruto's native territory.

Gaara can tell that Naruto is starting to feel more at home in these surroundings. Gaara doesn't. He prefers the stark beauty of his own arid land.

The drug Naruto has binding his chakra is still coursing through his body, but he seems to take it as a challenge, training himself as he travels, persuading Gaara to use his sand as weights around Naruto's wrists, ankles, waist and neck.

When asked, Gaara just sighs and complies, eventually copying Naruto and his insane training method.

They set up camp quickly that night, and neither of them bother to hunt, both of them are feeling the strain of Naruto's new training method.

"Ne...Gaara?" Naruto asks finally, staring into the flames of the small campfire.

Gaara looked up, taking his eyes off the oddly relaxing dance of the red-orange flames. "Aa?"

"When we get there...to the target...I don't want you to coddle me. 'Kay?" Naruto sounds...hesitant, to Gaara.

Gaara snorted. "Coddle you? Me?"

Naruto rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. Protect me, with your sand." Naruto paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I don't want you left without your defense, and I have more experience with taking physical blows, and Kyuubi heals me fast...so...don't. I don't want you getting hurt for me."

Gaara finds himself feeling somewhat...lost. He doesn't know what to say, or what he's supposed to be feeling. There's anger alright, and concern...but, nope, mostly just anger. Anger at Naruto, and because he doesn't actually understand what Naruto means.

Eventually he ops for silence.

Naruto seems to take it as an agreement, because he leans back and stares at the night sky with a relieved sigh.

Gaara frowns. "I didn't agree," he says, knowing his voice sounds petulant, and not really caring.

Naruto turns his head and just smiles than damnable bright vapid smile he usually bestows on unsuspecting strangers. Gaara doesn't like it. When he scowls, Naruto's face lightens up in a real smile, which makes his eyes gleam in the firelight with something akin to satisfied amusement.

"I'm not letting you die." Gaara says suddenly, after a good handful of empty minutes. "If you do die, it'll be me that kills you, in a battle."

"Aa." Naruto agrees with a nod or two, Gaara can't really tell, since Naruto tilts his head to the side to stare at the flames again. "I'd prefer you to kill me...much more than Sasuke-bastard, or his crazy brother."

Gaara glances at Naruto, then lets out a breath he didn't even realise he'd been holding. "You didn't need to agree so fast," he finds himself complaining playfully, and he's surprised to find himself acting his age for once.

Naruto just shrugs. "If I can survive the next ten years, I'll probably be immortal. So will you."

Gaara knows what Naruto means. Once their bodies finish maturing, the demons inside them will have given enough chakra to permanently change their physical structure. Gaara knew that within the next five years he'd heal even faster than Naruto does now, and within seven years he won't ever feel tired. After ten years he'll never age another moment without his body 'healing' the damage caused by the disease known as 'age'.

"If we live that long," Gaara says quietly. He's not really talking about himself. He'll survive no matter what, as long as Naruto isn't going to try to kill him, but Naruto...that's a different matter altogether. Unless Naruto pulls himself together fast, Gaara knows he's not going to survive.

"Aa. If we live that long," Naruto agrees softly.

There isn't really anything else Gaara wants to say right now.

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Both of them are up and ready before dawn breaks the next morning, fortified with one of Gaara's food pills. Their breaths are white puffs of air, but neither one shows any acknowledgment of the bitterly cold early morning air.

They run with the wind, twin streaks of muted colour through the grassy fields and small clusters of trees. They're almost halfway there, and the terrain is slowly changing. Lightning Country is balanced between grassy plains and rocky slopes, much like it's neighbour, however there are also hundreds of rivers, lakes and even fields of water. The greenery is darker, hardier and not as forgiving.

It's nearing Harvest time and many people are out by the time Gaara and Naruto hit the border. From there they follow the long roads of compacted dirt made from many years of constant use. They pass the occasional open-topped wagon, and even rarer, a few people on horseback. Most people walk, or simply don't travel. Goods are usually mule-laden, or pulled upstream to the busy prosperous towns by horses and long boats.

Bandits are also out full force. It's prime time for them to make a profit, either from purse-carrying merchants, or minor Lords and Ladies traveling to see the sights bearing a veritable treasury on their persons.

Those who can afford to pay for a shinobi escort, although the quality of that escort is limited by their funds. Many people who couldn't take the harsh ninja life sometimes rent themselves out to people. Shinobi villages are called 'Hidden' for a reason, and the general populace is generally unaware of what a good shinobi can do.

Copy-cats eager to make some easy money usually puff up their own skills, and unfortunately if they _look_ tough, people think they _are_ tough.

Genin are the weakest of shinobi. Most ninja become genin around the age of twelve, some are younger, some are older, but twelve is the average. A genin can take the Chuunin Exam and become a chuunin as soon as a certain number of missions are completed, and there are usually two chuunin examinations a year, although they change village each time.

For a chuunin to become a Jounin another exam must take place, but this one is shrouded in secrecy, and only another Jounin knows what the exam entails.

From Jounin, a ninja can become an ANBU member, which is a specialised military squad who only answers directly to their villages 'Kage', be it Hokage, Kazekage, Mizukage, Raikage, Tsuchikage or Otokage.

Of all the Kage, the Hokage is usually the strongest, only rivaled now by the recently inducted Otokage.

However, to the ordinary person, a ninja was a ninja was a ninja, and there were no distinctions between rank, which was unfortunate for those who thought their strength could rival those who trained pitilessly for their abilities.

Both Gaara and Naruto had power in spades, and a decent amount of skill. Unless they came across someone who had power, but _more_ skill and experienced, they were pretty much guaranteed an easy victory, so neither of them saw any need to hide and travel by night.

Unfortunately, that drug was still very much in Naruto's system.

A few more days of travel and they're nearing their goal. By mutual consent they decide to travel by night for the last stretch, traveling under the cover of darkness to prevent them being spotted. Gaara's aqua-green eyes seem luminescent in the darkness, and Naruto's have become glowing red slits, both of them drawing on their _other_ source of chakra to enhance their already preternatural senses.

They stop a day out from where the village is, carefully concealing themselves from all senses. They both eat and drink, Gaara feeding his sand from the small animals which roam freely in the local area. They take a soldier pill and a food pill as a general precaution and then use the day to scout.

Gaara's 'Third Eye' jutsu is extremely handy for this, as they can find out where the entrances and exits of the Raikage's home are located without having to go in themselves. They also keep track of the shifts the ANBU use, making sure they are well out of detection range.

They wait for the cover of darkness again before making their move, Gaara's sand eager to transport them into the heart of the Hidden Cloud. A few grains seem to linger on Naruto, and Gaara frowns as he calls it back.

Naruto takes point, sniffing the air warily and baring his fangs when he scents an enemy shinobi. Gaara's sand creeps along the floor to Naruto's position and they wait for the guard to walk past. When he does, Naruto springs into action, snapping his neck, even as the sand pins his hands to prevent him from using any seals or weapons to protect himself.

It's not until they retrieve the scroll and make their way to their second objective that all hell breaks loose. Explosions rock the tower they're currently in, and a massive fireball slams into the wall of the outer building.

Gaara and Naruto exchange a glance and nod. Right now it's more important to stay out of sight. If they're lucky and plan things right, they should be able to take advantage of the chaos to complete their second objective.,

Cloud shinobi are pouring out of everywhere, making their way to the source of the fire, leaving the way clear for Gaara and Naruto, who stops after he sniffs the air again, his head cocking to one side as he tastes the air carefully. His eyes go wide and his hisses lowly.

_Sasuke-bastard,_ Naruto signs quickly, _and he's not alone. There's a snake freak with him for sure._

Gaara narrows his eyes and glances back at the flames lighting up the night with their ferocity. _Orochimaru?_

Naruto shakes his head. _No. Not him, but the scent of the snakes is strong._

Gaara thinks for a moment, noting the tension thrumming through Naruto's frame, his hands twitching and his face flushing with blood. Gaara's senses are not as animalistic or as pronounced as Naruto's, but even he can smell the mixed anticipation, excitement and fear radiating off Naruto.

_Retreat. _Gaara signs. _We'll come back later, when things have died down. The Raikage will be well guarded, and his guests won't be left alone._

Naruto nods and steps close enough to Gaara for him to teleport out...or at least, he would have done.

Just as the sand starts to rise and move them, a large blade comes out of nowhere and drives through Naruto's chuunin vest, slashing through the sand as it disappears and forcing Naruto to hit the far wall, pinned by the blade through his chest, his back slamming against the wall, just as the jutsu takes effect and transports Gaara away from the room.

It takes a few moments for him to regroup and teleport back into the room, the darkness lit up by orange flares and flashes of white. It's enough for him to see though, and where Naruto was pinned is a streak of fresh blood, a few drops of which are still drying and smeared all the way to the windowsill.

Outside the room there's no sign of the blonde, and even his scent is overshadowed by other fresh blood, smoke and the acrid scent of a snake's burning flesh.

There's nothing Gaara can do.

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_Oh shit. _Naruto felt himself impact against the wall, the long blade easily slicing through skin and muscle, just missing his ribs and neatly pinning him like a butterfly to a board against the wall. His breath is driven from his body, and for an instant the world turns white.

The Kyuubi starts healing him even before he knows he's hurt, and Naruto has to grip the blade and pull it out of his body, tearing the flesh and re-opening his wound in order to slide the blade from out of his lungs. Blood bubbles from his lips and he throws his head back against the wall with a swallowed scream as the blade finally rips free.

He knows Gaara's gone, and that he'll be back. Something's changed between them, but he can't quite name it. Maybe it's because he's filling the hole Sasuke's betrayal left in him. Maybe not. Maybe it's more. Naruto once told Sasuke he'd though of him as a brother, just before Sasuke thrust his chidori-laced fist through his heart and killed him for the first time.

So, maybe they're becoming friends, maybe they're more like brothers. Whatever it is, Naruto has no intention of dying before he can find out.

He's never had a family before.

Fire flashes from outside the window, and lightning crackles close by.

Naruto finds himself sliding down the wall, the blade – some sort of sword – dropping with a clang to his feet.

"Hello, Dobe."

Naruto looks up in time to see the small arcs that he thought was lightning, just before the fist they covered impacted against his face. The last thing he sees are Sasuke's blood-tinged eyes staring at him, the Sharingan whirling wildly in the centre of his pupils.

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There's screaming and madness in the Hidden Cloud, and Gaara has no problem assassinating the target. He has the scroll safely tucked away in his pouch and covered with seals, preventing it from being stolen. All objectives have been met.

All he has to do now is find Naruto.

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Naruto has no idea how long he's been out. When he wakes he's in an unfamiliar room, his hands and feet bound and covered with seals. There's a chain and a collar of sorts around his neck, keeping him against the wall, and there's no natural light anywhere. A few torches light the room with a dim glow, just enough for Naruto to make out the door at the far end, a long row of bars before it.

The floor is cold and damp where he is sitting, the slight moisture seeping through his thin trousers and settling in his bones. His chuunin vest is gone, as are his bandages, pouch, holster and sandals. He still has his netting beneath his black top, but even his belt has been taken. A quick if awkward search reveals that he still has his garotte wires, hidden as they were in the seams of his sleeves, masked under the stitching.

His lock pocks are gone from the inside of his waistline, as are the small folded seals which were in a secret pocket in the ankles of his trousers.

One bit of good news to him is when he realises that the hitae-ate that Iruka-sensei gave him is still tied to his forehead. Everything else could be replaced, but not that.

Naruto carefully listens for footsteps, heartbeats, breathing, anything which could give away an enemy shinobi, or the presence of his once-rival. His bright blue eyes slit slightly, but stay blue. He only needs to be able to see directly in front of him.

When he's sure it's safe, Naruto gently unpicks the stitching and tugs out a thin sliver of garotte wire, wrapping it around one fist and over the seals covering his hands. He holds the other end in his mouth, gripping the razor-sharp wire carefully with his teeth.

It takes a few minutes of careful grinding and tugging, slicing and snapping before the top seal comes undone, disappearing in a flare of black flame and disintegrating into dust. The second one is easier, and simply falls neatly in two pieces to the floor. The third one doesn't budge, no matter how hard Naruto tugs and pulls and slices.

A faint whirring sound makes him pause and tuck the wire underneath the seals in one of his palms.

He's just in time. The door swings open, crashing loudly against the far wall as it swings noisily on rusted hinges. The backdrop of light silhouettes a familiar figure, although Naruto can't quite make out his eyes from this distance and with the light _behind _him.

Then _he_ comes striding forward, looking impossibly smug and arrogant, a smirk painting his lips and his eyes dipped in red. He's taller than Naruto remembered, although it shouldn't come as much of a surprise, after all he's had a good few growing years. His frame is muscled, but slenderly so, no overwhelming bulges of flesh, just smooth sleek perfection.

He stops in front of the row of bars and looks down at Naruto.

Naruto narrows his eyes and growls, which elicits a small laugh from him. "Sasuke-bastard," Naruto snarls.

Sasuke just cocks his head to one side and studies him intently. Naruto wonders what he sees. He knows he's dirty, covered in dried blood, soot and flakes of dead snake skin. He's not stocky like he was three years ago, he's grown a good three inches, but still only reaches five foot three inches, hardly a respectable height for a sixteen year old shinobi. He's slim and lithe, since he hasn't gained any weight, and his lack of good food has meant that his body has become adept at savaging itself for reserves.

Eventually Naruto finds himself looking away, staring resolutely at the grey stone of the cell wall, pointedly ignoring Sasuke's penetrating stare.

After a few more minutes which drag out longer than Naruto wanted them to, Sasuke leaves, although he doesn't close the outer door.

"Bastard," Naruto whispers, although it's half-hearted at the most. Some part of him still misses the boy who'd been his best friend and rival three and a half years ago.

With a long drawn out sigh, Naruto places his head back against the wall and wonders how long it's going to take Gaara to find him. He's not overly worried, if they'd wanted him dead, they – meaning Orochimaru or whomever Sasuke was working for now – would have killed him already, which meant he still had time to figure out an escape.

The wire is cautiously untucked and stretched out through the seals again, and Naruto tries desperately to slice through the bindings. When the seals _still_ don't give way, Naruto tries the bindings around his ankles instead, gratified and a little bit relieved when more than a few give way and dissolve in a flare of cold green flames.

Faint echoing footsteps make him hide the wire again, and he brushed the cut seal which didn't dissolve from his wrists further under his wrist seals, hoping that whomever chose to come for him wouldn't notice the difference.

The tall figure that steps through the door is familiar to Naruto, from the long silver-grey hair, to the piercing black eyes that he knows are hidden behind the glasses on the man's sneering face. His clothes are a nondescript grey, covered with a long black-blue tunic and belted with a thick swath of grey fabric. The Sound hitae-ate on his forehead gleams in the low torchlight.

"It's been a long time, Naruto-kun." Yakushi Kabuto greets, staring down at the blonde, derision and contempt easily visible on his face.

Naruto narrows his eyes. "Traitor."

Kabuto just snorts. "Still upset about our last battle?" His eyes narrow and he bares his teeth angrily. "I still owe you for that one."

"Looks like _you're_ the one with issues," Naruto goads with a smirk on his face. Even at a disadvantage like this he doesn't give up. "What's the matter, sore that you lost to a mere twelve year old genin _dropout?_"

The blow that crashes across his jaw is so fast that Naruto misses it completely. His head slams against the wall and he coughs out a mouthful of blood. "Fucker," Naruto grinds out after spitting out excess blood.

"You little shit!" Kabuto is fairly vibrating with anger. "You have _no _idea just who you're messing with. You're just lucky the Akatsuki have something Orochimaru-sama is after, or you wouldn't be _alive_ right now."

"And doesn't that just _piss_ you off?" Naruto smiles darkly, not at all like his usual smile. "I'm like a splinter you get during training that you can't dislodge no matter what you try, aren't I? Insignificant to you, but you can't forget about me. I'm always popping up, always needling when you least expect me or want me to." Naruto snorted and turned away. "Yeah, some big bad ninja _you_ are."

"I wish I could be there when they tear you apart." Kabuto stands up and steps back, pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. "I would give a _lot_ to hear your screams, Naruto-_kun_. I wouldn't get too comfortable if I were you, you'll be dead by the end of the week."

The door slams shut with a deafening _clang_ and a thud, leaving the room even darker than it was before. As soon as he's sure the coast is clear, Naruto begins again on the seals.

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**tbc...**

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End file.
